


Missing Her

by DragonGirl420



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl420/pseuds/DragonGirl420
Summary: Dean is on the verge of going to Hell, and Sam is reaching out to an old friend who he thinks holds the key (and secret) that could change Dean’s future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This stemmed from a request by @adoptdontshoppets … “I love the song “Missing You” by John Waite. It seems fitting for Dean and the one who got away (or he pushed away). No rush or obligation. Write it if it speaks to you” and the few gifs used within the fic. (GIFS are not mine, credit to owners).

The phone started ringing for the third time that night. It wasn’t a number you recognized, and they didn’t leave a message which was an instant red flag. The biggest red flag, however, was that it wasn’t the burner phone that Ellen gave you. That was the only one that would ring this time of night, which meant it couldn’t be an emergency.

It finally stopped after about seven rings, but when it immediately started up again, you got angry. Who the hell would be calling you in the middle of the night, and on the landline no less.

You grabbed the receiver and took a breath before barking into it. “What?!”

Silence.

“Listen, fuckface, if you call here aga—”

“Y/N,” he said, and your heart stopped. That voice was familiar, and not the kind that whips up a nice dose of nostalgia. This was the kind of familiar that makes ice run through your veins and elicits a frenzy of fear of what it could mean.

_It couldn’t be_.

“Y/N? Its Sam. Sam Winchester.”

_Holy shit. Why… why now? It had been years since you last heard his voice. He knew not to call, he_ promised _he wouldn’t. He promised he would leave you be…_

“Sam…” you didn’t know what else you could say. Sitting up in your bed, you leaned over and clicked on the lamp. “What, uh, what do you want?”

“It’s Dean. He’s in trouble and… I don’t—” he paused. You could feel the desperation and weight of his sigh through the receiver, “I wanna tell him. I want _YOU_ to tell him. Maybe… maybe this will be the thing that saves him.”

Your heart stopped and climbed up into your throat. The lump that it formed there felt permanent and you began to panic.

“Tell him? Why? What good would that serve, Sam? No. I can’t—I won’t.”

You slammed down the receiver and exhaled a rush of breath. _How fucking dare, he? Fucking Winchesters…_ running your hands nervously through your hair, you kicked off the covers and began pacing the room, fingers still apprehensively pulling at the tendrils around your face. They always seemed to pop up just when your life was good. Then, bam! Tears and broken hearts. The last time you talked to one of them, it hadn’t ended well, so you assumed this would, too.

“Dean’s in trouble… how the HELL is that my problem? I did what I was asked… played my part, why is Sam calling me now?”

You continued mumbling to yourself, going over the history you shared with the Winchesters. Those damn men, all three of them had turned your life upside down at one point. You missed Dean, though. You didn’t want to send him away, but you had to. Guilt ate at you every day for what you had done, but it was necessary… wasn’t it?

_Dean… God I miss him…_ you thought to yourself, like you did more often than not.

You sighed and fell back onto the bed, and rested your head against the headboard. Your hand absently went to the empty side of your bed and mindlessly rubbed at the spot where he could have been—SHOULD have been, had John not interfered. You shook your head to rid yourself of John’s face and the way it looked that night he stood on the steps outside your front door. Pitch black around him, except for the yellowed porch light that illuminated his deeply-rigid scowl. Your stomach was swimming in rough seas, the nausea was intense, and John’s demands had only made it worse.

A brief flashback to happier times entrenched itself in your mind. It was a different house, a different bed, but Dean was there. He had been young, charming as hell and beautiful. The stranger with the green eyes who bore the eyes of an angel and the smile of the devil had somehow wormed his way into your bed and then stayed for a while.

It was the longest you’d ever spent with anyone; same for him, so he said. Sex, late night talks, and midnight drives just for tacos while Zeppelin blared through the speakers… it all came back. You squeezed your eyes tighter when your memory saw him sitting behind the wheel of your old Camaro; smiling as he sang along with radio and sliding his hand up your thigh. You had never been more in love than you were then.

It was supposed to be a fling; one that you didn’t think would mean much. Certainly, you never thought it would change your life the way it had. Your heart ached for that time back. Your logically thinking brain was angry at you for even giving Dean Winchester a second thought, but if you were going to be honest, he was always sort of there, wasn’t he?

The phone began ringing again, and when you picked up the receiver, you didn’t bother with the greeting.

“Y/N… please. I know it has been a long time and I have no right to ask… but my brother, he—he’s gonna die. And—”

“Wait, what? Sam. What the hell is going on? Is he sick? Or is this… a Winchester thing? If so, what in the world do you think I can do to fix it?”

“He’s not sick and I don’t know if you can do anything. I do know that I have exhausted every possibility, and nothing has worked. You’re my last resort and his time is running out.”

“What did he do?”

“He sold his soul to save me.”

“Jesus,” you lamented and rubbed at your eyes. “How long does he have?”

“A month. We’ve tried everything, but its like, he doesn’t care if he dies. He’s stopped trying. I can’t lose him, Y/N. I thought maybe, if he knew the truth, he’d fight harder.”

“Sam,” you started, then paused. “I don’t…” you sighed and resigned yourself to the fact that if you didn’t try, you’d regret it, along with everything else, for the rest of your life. “Where are you guys?”

“Right now, South Dakota. But we could be there—”

“No. No, you can’t come here. Not yet. Meet halfway, that’s what I can offer you right now.”

“Really? Yes, that would be great,” he cut off quickly and you could hear the rustling of fabric then silence for a good minute before he came back on the line.

“He doesn’t know you called, does he?”

“No. He’d be pissed.”

“What about your father? What does he say about all this?”

“He’s dead,” he replied flatly.

You sat up straighter in the bed at the genuine shock of what Sam just said. “John’s dead?”

“Yeah, about two years now. But, look, I know there’s a messed-up history here, and you tend to get the crap end of this deal, but if you’re really willing to meet up—”

“I am. Give me a day, I need to take care of a few things. Take down this number, you can get me on there tomorrow and we can pick a place.”

“Y/N, thank you. Um, how… how is…?”

“She’s fine, Sam. Now, get a pen and write this down.”

You gave Sam your cell number and he thanked you for agreeing to come. You hung up quickly after that, not wanting to give him more time to ask more questions about things you didn’t want to talk about.

Once you hung up, you let your body slide back down so your head was on the pillow. Seeing Dean again wasn’t going to be easy. Pretty fucking hard, in fact. You didn’t part ways on good terms, and when he finally walked away from you it was with angry words and more than a few tears. It was unfortunate but necessary. It didn’t change your feelings for Dean though; not back then and not now.

The next day, you had taken care of the necessary arrangements and loaded up the car with a few necessary items. The cell came to life as you were gassing up and figured it was Sam. Not a call, but a text…

_Branson… tomorrow afternoon? Told him we have a job there._

_Yeah ok. Where?_

_I’ll text you when we get in town_

_Ok. See you then._

Starting up the car, you maneuvered it back onto the highway and put some miles under the wheels. With each one that passed beneath you, you felt your chest tighten a little more at the idea of seeing Dean. When you tried to figure out how to explain everything, you thought you may have to pull over and throw up.

* * *

“You didn’t say where you grabbed the case from,” Dean said, eyes affixed straight ahead and his foot pushing the Impala’s gas pedal all the way to the floor.

“Internet,” Sam replied absently, hoping Dean would drop his questions.

“Internet? Well that’s vague.”

“I don’t know, Dean, how we usually find cases. Since you don’t want to deal with the other thing, I don’t know what else to other than find a case. So that’s what I did.”

“Fair enough. So, where do we start?”

“Uh, the usual, I guess. Find a place to stay, talk to a couple locals, figure out how to go into the case.

“Suits and ID little brother. FBI is the quickest way in.”

“Not always,” he said rolling his eyes slightly at his big brother. “Sometimes, subtle is better.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Yeah, ok. Whatever you say, Sammy.”

They rode in silence for a little while, and Sam was determined to keep trying to change Dean’s mind.

“So, I may have found another Shaman. It’s a long shot, but if he could help—”

“Sam don’t do this. Stop trying to save me, alright?”

“No, Dean I will never stop trying! Why are you so willing to die?!”

“Come on, man. Its not like that. I just think it’s a waste of energy. Nothing’s gonna stop it.”

“Can’t you try? What about me, and Bobby? All the other people out there that love you?! What are we supposed to do, Dean? Just let it happen?”

“What people? It’s you and Bobby. That’s it.”

“That’s not it. There’s Ellen, and Jo… Ash. We have friends in other places, Dean… and what about Y/N?”

Dean slowly turned his eyes from the road and bore them into his little brother. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“She cares about you, Dean! We all do—”

“Why the Hell would you bring her into this? She cares so much that a million years ago she cursed me out and told me to fuck off. WHY would you bring her up?”

Sam panicked and shrugged, trying to think of an excuse. “I just—I mean, she was the last real serious girlfriend you had, and I thought maybe… one day…”

“I’d go back? For what? She made her feelings clear.”

“You don’t miss her at all?”

Dean was quiet and cast a dirty look from the corner of his eye. “No. I don’t miss her at all,” he lied and went back to driving in silence.

They reached Branson a couple hours later, and the moment that Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel, he noticed Sam texting away.

“Got a girlfriend I don’t know about?” Dean teased, trying to peak at the screen.

“No!” Sam pulled it away from him and quickly shoved it in his coat pocket, but not before hitting send on his message to Y/N. If this was going to work, Dean couldn’t know she was in town before he actually saw her.

Dean brought the bags into the room and mumbled something about taking a shower to wash the road off. Sam heard the water start in the bathroom and took out his phone.

One missed message.

_I’m here. Room 15._

_We’re in 27._

_What now?_

_Idk, give me a few minutes. Dean’s in the shower._

Sam fidgeted nervously with his phone until the water shut off, and Dean exited in nothing but a towel.

“Listen, I was thinking. I’m fricking starving. Let’s start with the diner across the street, alright? Then we can chat up the locals, make a plan.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sam said with a smile. “I’ll go start the car.”

Dean looked at him in that funny, confused way and shrugged his bare shoulders. “Dude… you don’t need to start the car. Gimme five minutes and I’m ready.”

“Alright, fine. Meet you outside.” Sam jumped up and rushed out the door.

“So weird…” Dean mumbled and went about getting dressed.

Sam sprinted down the covered walkway until he was face to face with room 15. He rose his fist to knock, but the door opened, and Y/N was standing there starring back at him.

[Originally posted by demondetoxmanual](https://tmblr.co/Z2gk_x2A18bjo)

Seeing Sam’s face again was like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t seen him since you bumped into him in California, before that he had just been a gawky teenager. Now it appeared he had grown another foot over the years. But his eyes and that smile… they hadn’t changed a bit.

“Hey,” he said softly, nervously fidgeting his hands together. He seemed unsure if he should hug you or not, so you opened your arms and made the first move.

Sam returned your hug and flashed one of his precious dimples at you before checking over his shoulder.

“He wants to go to the diner over there. We’re gonna walk over, and maybe you can—”

“I knew you had some girl here, Sammy. This isn’t about a case at all is it?”

Dean’s voice. You’d know it anywhere. Sam froze and slowly turned to see his brother approaching, just as your stomach bottomed out on the floor.

Dean Winchester, still wearing his dad’s old leather jacket and looking damn fine doing it. He was twirling a set of keys in his hand and had a ‘cat-ate-the-canary’ kinda smile across his face. Seeing him didn’t quite elicit the feelings you thought it would, but rather something else entirely. Suddenly, you wanted to try and duck back into the room so he couldn’t see you. But it was far too late for that.

The minute he saw you and realized it was you, all bets were off. It was Dean’s turn to freeze in the middle of the walkway as he passed a pensive glance at you before his eyes began shooting daggers at his brother.

His jaw clenched, the fire in his eyes finding its way to you again before turning back to Sam. “This is why we’re here? For her? This is why you brought her up in the car, isn’t it? There’s no case at all, is there Sam?”

“Dean, I just thought… Maybe if you listened to her…”

“Listen? To Y/N? Why? Why the hell would I do that? She bailed on me, man. Told me to—what was it, exactly? Oh, right. Fuck off and get out of your life. Was that right?” He was angry, his words and body language screamed how offended and hurt he was.

A force of tears stung behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. He was right, you were cruel that day he left. But you had to be because it was what was best then for you and everyone else. Once John Winchester found out about you and the impending bundle of joy, he did everything in his power to convince you to kick Dean to the curb, end the pregnancy, and move on.

That night you screamed at him to go, John showed up a few hours later. He handed you an envelope and asked you to take this secret to your grave.

_“For both your sakes”_ he had said, and knowing what you knew about them, you believed then it was for the best. Inside the envelope had been a few hundred dollars and the business card for a place called Harvelle’s Roadhouse. Before he left, he turned back and said, “If you find yourself in need of a friend, there’s a number in there. Call Ellen. Just tell her you know me, but don’t tell her everything.”

That was nine, long years ago.

“Dean, I’m sorry.” It came out raspy and broken; like they were your first words after being left in a desert for days with no water. “Can’t we find a place and talk?”

He just stared at you, his eyes ablaze with anger and the rest of his expression followed suit. “Why would you call her?” he asked Sam, ignoring your question.

“Because. I didn’t know what else to do, Dean! You are dying… in ONE MONTH! You refuse to fight or find a way out of it. Its like you’ve give up completely!”

“So, you involve Y/N? You know how I feel about her, Sam.”

“I don’t,” you said louder this time. Looking between them, your eyes finally settled on Dean and took a tentative step closer. Sam moved back towards the wall of the motel and just watched nervously as you kept trying to approach Dean. “I know I hurt you. A lot. I know what you are facing now, and I want to help. Sam sorta filled me in–”

“Of course he did,” he grumbled and flashed a look of annoyance at Sam.

“Please, Dean. Let’s go sit down and just talk, ok? There’s… there’s some stuff you should probably know. Things that may change how you feel—”

“How I feel? Feel about what? Being supper for the Hellhounds? Sweetheart, you don’t have the first idea how that makes me feel. Don’t pretend you do.”

“I’m sorry, I am. I can’t make you go, but I’m headed across the street because I’m starving. I’d love for you to join me, so we can catch up and I can explain what happened back then. It may help you now.”

“How the hell do you think catching up over a cup of coffee and slice of pie about shit that happened, what, nine years ago, would matter now?” Dean scoffed.

“Because! I can explain why I made you leave and why I needed you to go.”

“Come on, Sam. Let’s go back to Bobby’s. Pick up a real case from there, do some things that matter with the time I got left,” Dean said, completely ignoring you and turned to leave.

You felt a surge of anger rising. “God! You are the most infuriating man in the world Dean Winchester! Stand here and talk to me Goddammit!”

Dean’s brow furrowed in curiosity and you clearly had his attention now. Sam put a hand on his shoulder and did his best to convince him to stay put. “Just listen to her, please. This could change everything.”

“No, Sam. It can’t,” Dean sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment, stowing himself against whatever was about to come next. “I know what she’s going to say, Sam. It’s the same thing they all say. I shouldn’t have pushed you away, asked you to go, said I didn’t care… blah blah blah. Dredging up some woman I used to love a million years ago isn’t going to stop me from being dog chow. So, please. Just drop it, ok?”

“What if…” a sob caught in your throat, once you were able to force it back down, and swiped at the lone tear that crept down your cheek, you found the resolve to continue. “What if, that woman you used to love, has been raising your daughter for the past eight years and she’s finally come here to tell you about her.”

There. It was out. Sam’s gaze fell to the concrete walkway with a sigh of relief, but his hand still rested on Dean’s shoulder. It was there to help steady his older brother a little when he swayed with the surprise of what you just admitted.

Dean’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip before he swallowed audibly. “Wha—what did you say?”

“I got pregnant, Dean. And, it’s a long story, but that’s why I picked the fight and made you leave. I thought it was for the best. I thought I was going to end it, anyway. And your dad—”

“My father?!” Dean questioned loudly. “What the hell does he have to do—”

A realization struck him, and he bent at the waist with his hands on his knees and tried to catch a breath to calm himself. “Was it his?”

“No! Ewe, no… I called your number. The one I had for you then, crying. Your dad answered and I just… it just came pouring out.”

“I need to sit down,” Dean groaned, the color draining from his face.

“Here, come inside…” you moved aside so Dean and Sam could come in, and they did so without hesitation. Dean fell into the chair beside the window and rubbed a hand over his mouth.

You sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, while Sam closed and locked the door behind him. Sam hovered in the background, just watching his brother with trepidation. Occasionally he would glance at you, and look as though he wanted to say something, but never did.

You had to say something, if for no other reason than to break the heavy silence of the room. “Dean?”

“Don’t ask if I am ok, because I am not… ok.”

Dean got up from the chair and started pacing the room, eventually stopping in front of Sam. “And you knew? This whole time?!”

“Sort of. I knew Y/N had been pregnant, but I didn’t know she kept it until a couple years after.”

Dean was in shock. He just shook his head and began pacing again.

“Dean… please. I can explain—”

“Walk away from me, Sam. Seriously. Go back to the room, or to the diner, I don’t really care. Just… leave. I’ll talk to you later.”

Sam’s distraught expression made your heart ache for him. You knew how much Sam loved him and could only imagine the regret building in his heart for keeping this secret for so long. He offered you a half smile and quietly left the room. When Dean heard the latch of the door mark his brother’s exit, he turned and punched the old wood paneling of the room, leaving a few splintered pieces.

“Hey, asshole. You’re paying the security deposit,” you said, standing from the bed and squaring up to him.

“How could you not tell me? And what did my father do, threaten you, pay you off?” he asked, again ignoring your comment.

“I didn’t tell you because, yeah, he threatened me and paid me off. But the money was to terminate the pregnancy. He said there shouldn’t be more Winchesters in the world. That your lives were far too dangerous for love or family, and that you needed to focus on the job at hand.”

Dean’s face contorted through a myriad of emotions as he listened to the betrayal his father initiated. His mouth fell open, lips quivering as he did his best to breathe through the anger that was near boiled over. When his eyes found you again, they were wet, but no tears fell.

“How could he…” Dean whispered to himself but kept his gaze locked with yours.

You could see the pain he was in and you didn’t know how to make it stop. So, doing the only thing you could think of, you turned around and grabbed your duffel off the bed, rummaging through until you found what you were looking for.

Now, holding the picture of your daughter in your hands, then looking back at Dean, you were amazed at how much she really did look like him. She had your color eyes, but the rest of her features, came courtesy of Dean Winchester. Her sandy brown hair was long and wavy, little dimples set into her features when she smiled, and a peppering of freckles went across the bridge of her nose and spilled onto her cheeks.

You smiled softly at her image and suddenly missed her terribly. Dean realized what you were holding, and his features softened.

“Is that her?”

“Mhm,” you responded and held it out for him. “Her name is Olivia Kate, but I call her Ollie.”

Dean took the photograph and stared at it for what felt like forever. He walked back to the bed and sat on the corner, his eyes never leaving the picture.

“She’s beautiful,” he mused and looked up at you with damp eyes. “She’s really beautiful.”

“She is. She looks a lot like you,” you said and smiled wistfully. “Was a super big handful as a baby, too. I am guessing also, a lot like you.”

You took the chance and sat next to him. It was the closest you’d been to him in forever, but yet, also felt like no time had passed at all. Dean’s hand absently reached out for yours. You clutched it in both of your hands and let it rest on your thigh. So many years of guilt and regret sat on your shoulders, and despite the reasons John gave, and you accepted, you felt awful for keeping him from Ollie for so long.

“Dean… I can’t begin to apologize for not telling you sooner. Or even making Sam stay quiet. What your dad and I did—”

“What _he_ did.”

“I agreed to it.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Yeah, well, no one I know has ever said ‘no’ to John Winchester. Why should you be any different?”

“Don’t be angry at Sam, either. He was only doing what I asked.”

“How did he even find out?”

“About two years after Ollie was born, I literally just bumped into him. I was visiting my family out in California. They wanted to give us the tour of the town and the college where my cousin went, and while out and about, we ran into Sam.”

“What are the odds?” Dean snarked and sighed.

“Apparently they went to the same college. He was on his way to work and we passed each other on the street. I wasn’t going to acknowledge him because I was scared he’d ask about Ollie.”

“Did he?”

“He did. He was surprised to see her and began asking questions. We talked for a few minutes. He said he overheard John on the phone with me that night. Later he confronted your father, and I guess John said it was a false alarm. Then he saw Ollie and… your brother isn’t stupid.”

“You made him promise to keep quiet?”

“I did. I thought if you found out… and your dad found out… I was scared, Dean. John made it sound like if anyone knew there was another Winchester out there that they would be in danger. Something bad would come for her. So, yeah. I swore him to secrecy. Clearly, he only lasted so long.”

Dean pulled his hand from yours and stood up from the bed. He was pacing again, but slower this time, more contemplative than angry.

“I guess Sam thought if I knew about her now, I’d fight harder to find a way out.”

“Did it work? Will you try other ways?”

Dean shook his head and smiled, but there was no joy in his gesture. “No. Nothing can change this. If Sam wants me to try something, I will, just to satisfy whatever it is he needs satisfied. But for me, the end is coming and there’s nothing I can do about it. Honestly, it’s been freeing.”

“Freeing?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have to worry about anything… what’s the point of worrying about the future when you don’t have one? Right? Sam will be alright—”

“You’re an asshole,” you stood up and now it was your turn to steam with fury. “Do you hear yourself? Your brother is NOT going to be alright, Dean. Not even a little. Do you not see him?! He’s sick over the thought of losing you.”

“Nothing I can do about that,” he mumbled, frustrating setting into his brow.

“Bullshit. Do whatever you can. Fight. Come up with a plan of attack, at least go down swinging. There’s gotta be something, somewhere that will fend off a Hellhound. Some lore, or spells…”

“Whoa. Wait? You sound like you know what you’re talking about. What the Hell is that about?”

You sighed and rolled your neck from side to side trying to ease some of the growing tension. Getting caught up in the riptide of emotions from telling Dean about Ollie, you had failed to mention the rest of the story.

“Right. Well… the night your father gave me the money for the abortion, he gave me a business card for a place called Harvelle’s.”

“You know Ellen?!”

“I do. I went there a few months before Ollie was born. I was alone and scared, and he said that if I needed a friend, I could call on her. So, I finally did. I didn’t tell her I knew you or that you were the father. Just that I knew John because of a case, which wasn’t a lie…” Dean rolled his eyes and motioned for you to continue. “…she took me in for a while. Helped me get on my feet, take care of Ollie… taught me about hunting.”

“So, you hunt now? Isn’t that a little hypocritical considering—”

“Easy, cowboy. I do not hunt. I do, however, have nursing skills and occasionally help stitch up some hunters when she needs me too.”

“This is all too fucking much,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “Where is Ollie now? Who’s watching her while you’re here?”

“Her step-father. Well, he’s my ex now, but she knows him as her step-dad.”

Dean’s body stiffened. “Step-father?”

“I was married for a little while, Dean. And now I’m not.”

“I need a drink. You want a drink? Please tell me you have something in here.” He began rifling through the cabinet and small fridge that was tucked in the corner. When he came up empty, he saw your keys sitting on the dresser. He grabbed them, then your hand and said, “Come on.”

Twenty minutes later you were sitting in the corner of an old western style bar in the outskirts of Branson. The hollowed-out honkytonk was sparsely populated, with a few of the patrons dancing lazily on the planked dance floor to an old Patsy Cline number. The waitress brought your round of drinks and barely gave you a second glance as she placed them down then sauntered away, her cowboy boots walking in beat with the song.

You and Dean each grabbed your shot of whiskey and tossed it back at the same time, your eyes meeting over the pints of beer that was washing down the burn of the Jack. He was quiet, and though he was watching you, he seemed lost in something a million miles away.

“I’m not going to survive this,” he said finally, resolute in his words. “I’m not, and I can’t change that. I just don’t want to spend any more time, fighting. With anyone. Not Sam, not you… not the memory of my father.”

“So, what then?”

Dean frowned and shrugged, taking a long drink of his beer. “I don’t know. Hunt… save people. Eat some pie. Drink more. Drive fast. Enjoy time with a woman, maybe.”

You tried to ignore the feelings that arose at the thought of being with Dean again, but your body flushed warmed anyway. You reminded yourself that he didn’t mean you, and that brought on an entire different feeling… jealousy. You brushed it off and did your best to just roll with the conversation, trying to hide how affected you were by his comment and the way he was watching you.

“Oh, I imagine the ‘I only have a month to live’ troupe works wonders for you.”

Dean smiled his most genuine, charming smile and raised his glass in salute.

_His smile is still the devil’s work, I see_ … you thought to yourself as he gulped down the rest of his drink. He motioned for another round at the waitress and turned back to you.

“As for… our daughter, I don’t want her to know me. Not with the time I got left. What you tell her after that is up to you, but I won’t appear in her life only to be ripped out a few weeks later. That’s not fair. But, maybe… you let Sam know her. Let him be her uncle and be there to keep her safe.”

All you could do was nod because the lump in your throat negated any sort of verbal response from happening. You just sat in silence and finished your pint until the waitress returned with two more shots and two more beers. Dean threw his whiskey back immediately and chased it, but you just ran your finger absently around the lip of the shooter.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip, his brow creased in concern.

“I don’t like imaging a world without Dean Winchester. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Just because of this history we have… it doesn’t stop the fact that the time we did spend together, meant something to me. It meant a hell of a lot, actually. I called you when I found out I was pregnant. If you had answered the phone instead of John… things could have been so different, Dean. I loved you, then. I’ve missed you every day since. Tried to tell myself I didn’t, but I did. I have that one, stupid polaroid we took, do you remember? We were at that drive-in, you stole your dad’s car to pick me up and go… we made really good use of the back seat.”

Dean conjured the memory and couldn’t help but smile at the recollection.

“I carried that with me for years. I only tucked it away when I thought I had lost it, then promptly lost my mind. It was the only image I had of you and I was afraid I would forget what you looked like. I had already forgotten what your voice sounded like…”

Without thinking, you reached across the table and took his hand. His skin felt warm and welcoming, his fingers gladly accepting yours to entangle with his. With your free hand, you tossed back your shot of whiskey and decided it was time to say everything you needed to.

“My ex… he knew a little about you, and the situation. He left me in the end because he knew that I couldn’t love him the way I loved you. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you lived in here,” you patted your chest over your heart, “and in Ollie. Though he loves her like his own, he couldn’t forgive me for loving you more.”

Dean’s face fell. “Y/N—”

“I don’t tell you this for any other reason, but for you to understand how I feel about you. How I have always felt. You’re right, what you said before. I was going to say that I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I let John scare me, and I hate myself for it.”

The mixture of alcohol with a very emotional day finally cracked your tough exterior. A few stray tears made their way down your cheeks as you did your best to contain the rest of the tsunami that really wanted to come out.

Dean got up from his side of the booth and slid into yours. He didn’t say anything, just wiped away what had fallen with the pad of his thumb. He lightly traced the line of your cheekbone to your jaw, as his eyes slowly examined every inch of your face.

He hesitated, then drew your lips to his. Dean kissed you softly, tentative to your reaction and to the reaction he may have as well. When you returned it, he found more courage and pressed his mouth to yours. He parted his lips, encouraging you to do the same with the tip of his tongue. Tasting him again, after so many years of just trying to remember him, was intoxicating. You were immediately transported to that place and time you shared with him. The passion you had for him was instantly reinvigorated, but underneath was the surprise you felt at it actually happening.

After you had made him leave and denied him his daughter, you never thought he’d want to kiss you again, much less with such longing.

His hand moved around to the back of your neck, but he didn’t push you into him as you wanted him to. Putting your hand on his knee, you drug your nails along the fabric of his jeans and up his thigh. That’s when he leaned into you, even more, forcing you back against the wall of the booth, his fingers firmly ensconced in your hair.

The kiss deepened, mouths were parted wide, tongues touching and teeth biting. There was a need in that kiss. There were almost ten years of longing in that kiss; but there was also, anger and love, regret and heartbreak.

His hand still holding the back of your head, Dean finally pulled back, his tongue running across his lips getting the taste of you and wanting more.

“Motel?”

You smirked. “Wow, I don’t even get the pleasure of a cheesy pickup line? Last night on Earth? Nothing? You’re slacking, Winchester.“

Your teasing only made him narrow his eyes at you. He released his grip on your hair and took the hand you had on his thigh and pulled you up from the booth. He threw down some cash on the table, took your hand again, and lead you back out into the parking lot.

Dean didn’t say a word on the ten-minute drive back to the motel. When he parked, he killed the engine, pulled out the keys, then reached over for you and jerked you closer. His eyes were already oozing with lust as he pulled you onto his lap. Your ass hit the horn, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him, the hard length of his erection meeting the heat between your thighs.

“I want this. Badly. I’m still pissed about everything, but my God, I want you. Y/N, if you don’t, or can’t I understand…”

“I’ve never wanted anything _but_ this, Dean.”

“Even if this is it, all it could ever be?”

You swallowed hard and realized that it was the last chance you’d have to be with him again. Slowly, and as much as you hated to do it, you climbed off his lap and exited out of the driver’s side door. He sat there and sighed, but when you reached your hand out for his, he took it and got out.

You didn’t let go of his hand as you led him through the door of your motel room. No more words needed to be spoken. There was no time for that now. There was a lot of years to account for in a short amount of time, and you didn’t want to ruin it with talking.

Dean stood motionless as you removed his coat and tossed it on the chair, then slowly worked on freeing him from his flannel and t-shirt. When his chest was bare, your fingers traced along the tattoo on his chest gingerly. You leaned him to kiss him there, and wrapped your arms up around his neck, letting your lips work their way up towards his neck. When you reached his ear, you kissed him there, making his skin ripple with goosebumps.

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, I want you, even if it is just for tonight.”

Dean didn’t wait another second. He tore at your shirt and the buckle of your jeans, making quick work of stripping them off and tossing them aside. His hands moved up your arms to your neck, then down your back, removing your bra and pressing your body to his. He walked you back towards the bed, then pushed you down to it. His eyes were dark and greedy, not like when you’d been together before. This was different, this was lust like you’d never felt before and your ache for him grew to desperate levels. Sitting up you unbuckled his jeans quickly and didn’t hesitate when his cock sprung free from its restraints to take hold of it.

Taking it into your mouth, you teased him at first as his hands wrapped around your head and once again tangled in your hair. Working as much of him into your mouth, you heard him groan and dig his fingers in deeper with each pass you made using your tongue.

He relished in your attention for a minute or two before he backed up from you to remove his jeans all the way. You pushed yourself further back on to the bed, seductively slipping off your underwear while holding his gaze. He watched you for a moment, and you remembered how he liked to do that.

More than a few times, though he had been shy about it, he would ask to watch you touch yourself. But being young and somewhat unsure, it was only for a moment or two. Now, you could feel what he wanted just by the intensity in which he drank you in.

You allowed your fingers to slip down into your folds. You would rather it would be his hand touching you there, but any stimulation was welcomed against your throbbing clit. It didn’t take more than a minute for him to be on top of you. He brought your hand up to his lips, letting his tongue take the taste of you off your fingers. His dick positioned so it just teased the ridges of your sex, so slick and ready for him, it wouldn’t take much to slide himself up inside you.

That’s what you wanted… needed him to do. You begged him with your eyes, but he only gave you a twitch of a smile before he bent his head down, taking your hard nipple into his mouth. He sucked and teased you with his tongue while taking your hands and pinning them above your head. Your body writhed beneath him, pleading with him to enter you, to fill you as quickly and as hard as he could.

“Dean… please…”

With one last lick of your nipple, he relented and quickly thrust up into you, causing you to inhale sharply. He moved slowly, your moans growing with each pass, your hips rising and falling with his. Dean’s head hung lowly near yours, his eyes closed, his mouth opened and breathing heavily.

He felt so good inside you, right where he should have been all these years. But you wanted more, _needed_ more…

“Fuck.. harder baby, please… I need you…”

Dean released your hands. You immediately wrapped them around his back and ran them down his arms, gripping him tightly. You raised up your knees, allowing him a better angle to sink deeply into you. His hips moved faster, hitting that spot that drove you crazy and caused you to call his name in repeated whispers. Both of your breathing was becoming more erratic as his lips hovered over yours; not quite kissing you but brushing together with each thrust upward.

You held onto him for dear life as he fucked into you, now licking and biting at your neck the closer he got to climax. He growled as his movements became uneven, throwing his head back with a few last rough thrusts.

“Unnff Fuck!” he cried out as your walls fluttering around his cock made him cum inside you.

You held onto each other, breathless and exposed. You brought a hand to his stubbled cheek, guiding his gaze, and lips, back towards yours.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he rasped before kissing you again. Lowering himself to the spot on the bed beside you, he let his gaze linger along the curves of your body and brushed a tuft of hair from your cheek. “I love you. No matter what happened then, or what happens now, always remember that, alright?”

You nodded silently and tucked yourself into him. You stayed that way for a long while and fell asleep at some point. When you woke up, you were alone. If not for the heap of your clothes on the floor, you may have thought it was all a dream. But there, on the nightstand was a folded piece of paper with your name on it.

_Y/N,_

_I couldn’t stand to say goodbye again, even under better circumstances. I’m keeping the picture. I want her face to be the last thing I see. Take care of her, and Sam, too._

_I love you._

_Dean_

_xo_

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, but it did little to stop all the tears that had been waiting. Maybe they had just been waiting for Dean to go. Either way, they came, and didn’t stop for many, many hours.

[Originally posted by adaav](https://tmblr.co/Zwnl1y2CrjWSm)

Six months had passed since the night in the motel room. You didn’t hear from Dean again, but you did get a message from Sam. About a month after Branson, it was one line… two words. But it was devastating.

_He’s gone._

Your heart broke that day. You hid in the linen closet at work near the nurses’ station and crumpled into a ball on the floor. You didn’t realize how long you had been that way until the door opened and an orderly found you there. There was no way to describe what you were feeling, so you kept it to yourself and just concentrated on taking care of Ollie.

You tried to call Sam many times over the next couple of months, but it went straight to voicemail, and eventually, you got the message that the line had been disconnected. You saw Ellen less and less, though it may ease the pain to remove yourself from that world completely. But it didn’t. Once, you casually asked her about Sam Winchester, and she just said he was in the wind after his brother died. You never mentioned any of this to Ollie. Nor did you admit to Ellen that she was Dean’s daughter.

_Just bury it all_ , you told yourself _, forget that night in Branson ever happened and go on with your life_.

That’s just what you did.

Six months after Branson, you were laying in bed, much like the night Sam first called you. This time, it was the burner phone that rang. Though you weren’t seeing much of Ellen, you still answered whenever she called.

“Hey Ellen, what’s up?” you asked in greeting.

“Well, it’s not Ellen,” the voice said, making you sit up in bed. It was deep and familiar, causing you to experience a bout of Déjà vu, and immediately you felt like you did the night Sam had called.

You swallowed hard, your nerves feeling an electrified current of energy pulsating through the phone.

“Who—who is this? Sam?”

He snorted a laugh. “No, sweetheart. It’s not Sam.”

It couldn’t be. Dean was dead.

“I—um…who?”

“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m back.”

You felt the receiver fall from your hand as the world around you got fuzzy. There was a ripple of static in your ears, but you could hear his voice through the phone now laying on the top of the blankets.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

Somehow, you pulled yourself back from the verge of passing out and found the phone, bringing it back to your ears.

“Dean? But… how?”

“Guess there was a way out, after all. So, I was wondering. Wanna get that pie, now?”


	2. Missing Her: Unbreak My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is back from his time in Hell, and wants to see Y/N and meet Ollie before he continues with the mission to stop Lillith from breaking the 66 Seals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be a sequel (and end) to the first part, Missing Her, however, the idea has taken on a life of its own and well, this is now just Part 2 of I have no idea how many parts. “Unbreak My Heart” by Toni Braxton, suggested by @ravenangel33 inspired this part. The song I have one planned for the last chapter, you may all hate me for. I already hate myself for it, tbh. Oh well… here we go.

The coffee pot had beeped more than a few times, but you didn’t hear it. Your mind was a million miles away thanks to the phone call you’d gotten the night before. No sleep had come after that and really, how could it? Learning that Dean was alive and wanted to see you were really all you could think about.

“Mommy,” Ollie said softly from beside you, her small hand pulling on your sleeve. “Are you alright? Your coffee is done.”

The spell was broken, and you looked down at her. “Hmm? What was that?”

She pointed at the coffee pot. “It’s done.”

“Oh, thanks.” You gave her a lacking, half smile and poured a cup.

“Are you ok momma?” she asked, pulling herself up onto one of the counter stools and reaching for the pack of chocolate chip muffins next to her.

You smiled again, trying to make it more genuine this time, and reached for the bananas. “Yeah, I’m fine baby. Here, have this with that, please.”

Ollie rolled her eyes, as most eight-year-olds do, and took it reluctantly. “Why? They’re so gross and mushy. Can’t I just have the muffin? I promise to eat the apple in my lunch today.”

You gave her a knowing look, which she ignored and concentrated on her muffin.

“You and I both know you will trade that apple for whatever sugary treat your bestie brings in today.”

“She likes to share!” she pleaded, her little green eyes ablaze with mercy.

“I’m sure she does, but I like you eating at least one piece of fruit a day. So, it’s the muffin and banana, or the apple at lunch.”

“Fine,” she relented and peeled the banana. Ollie took a bite and glared at you while doing so, which just reminded you how much she looked, and acted, like Dean. “Having a mom who is a nurse, sucks like crap through a straw.”

“Olivia Kate! What have we talked about?”

“Language.”

“And?”

“Sarcasm…”

“And?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Use both in moderation.”

You shook your head and had to resist the urge to say something like _‘you are more and more like your father every day’_. The truth was, Ollie was so much like her dad, it sometimes sent you for a loop. She not only bore his physical features, but his mannerisms and facial expressions. Olivia had never spent a moment in his presence, yet she was his ‘mini-me’ in so many ways.

“So, after school today, what’s the plan?” she asked, already putting the admonishing behind her.

“What’s the plan?” you asked, nearly choking on your coffee. “Plan for what?”

“After school, mom. Is Daddy picking me up today, or are you?”

“Oh, uh, I’m not sure. Is it my day?”

Ollie shrugged. “I dunno. I’m the kid here, shouldn’t you remember?”

“Fair enough. And yes, I should remember, I’m sorry. It was a little bit of a rough night.”

Ollie’s face turned serious and she gazed at you curiously, her head ever so slightly tilted to the side, her petite but pouty lips pointed in a frown. “What happened? Did Aunt El call with someone who was hurt again?”

“No, baby, everyone’s fine. But I did get a call from an old friend, and it just sorta surprised me.”

You leaned your elbows down on the counter near where she was eating her breakfast and thought about how you should proceed. Not bringing up Dean before had been a conscious choice because how you left things, and then after that, he had asked you not too. But now, things were different. He was alive, and he wanted to see you.

“Which friend?”

“No one you know,” you said and finished with “yet” in your head.

“Oh. Anyways, after school?”

“I’ll get you. But I do need to talk to daddy, so maybe I’ll pick you up and bring you there for a while? You can play with Max and Cody while he and I talk about a few things.”

“Are you gonna fight again?”

“No, baby. We won’t.”

“Alright. Cause its scares, Max and Cody, then they get crazy.”

You gave her that knowing look again. “It’s the dogs that don’t like it? Or you?”

She shrugged and concentrated on her half-eaten banana. “Maybe both.”

“Promise kiddo, no fighting.” You kissed her on the top of her head and moved about the kitchen readying her lunch and yours for the day.

* * *

After school, you picked her up curbside and headed to Jim’s house. Luckily, he had answered your call earlier that day and had free time that afternoon to talk. When you got to his house, he answered the door, right along with his two golden retrievers, Max and Cody, who immediately began swarming around Ollie and licking her face.

“Easy guys,” Jim warned in a deep, commanding voice, to which they immediately obeyed. They sat and patiently waited for Ollie to remove her coat and greet them properly.

“Thanks for this,” you said, removing your own coat and hanging it up.

“Sure thing,” he said and turned to Ollie. “Hey kiddo, I got snacks and the tv going in the playroom. Can you head in there so—”

“Yeah, I know… grownup time. Come on guys,” she patted her leg and the dogs followed obediently.

“She’s good with them,” you mused, watching her walk away.

Jim cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. It was his way of putting up a wall where you were concerned.

“So, what do you need to talk about?” he asked curtly.

“Do you remember a few months back, when I asked you to take her because I had to go out of town?”

He nodded slowly, still clearly a sore spot for him. Jim hadn’t exactly been happy about it, and not because he didn’t love being with Ollie, but because he knew it had something to do with Dean.

“Well, I know that you know, why I went. I went to meet up with Dean.”

“I figured,” he growled.

“It’s a long story and one I don’t think you care to hear, but he called again last night.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this, Y/N? You know how I feel about this guy…”

“I know. But, he’s her father.”

“ _I’M_ her father,” he barked and angrily stuck his finger into his own chest, the veins in his neck popping with anger. “ _I’M_ the one that took care of her for the last five years! Not this ass—”

“Hey! Just stop. I promised her we wouldn’t fight!”

He glared at you and shook his head in disgust. “So, what? You want my blessing to take her to meet him?”

“Yes and no… I don’t know. I don’t even know if I should. But, you are _also_ her father. So, I guess I wanted to include you in this. Forgive me for being so stupid to believe that you could just think about what’s best for her, and not be angry with me.”

“Best for her? This… _Dean_ guy,” Jim spat the name from his mouth as if it were poison, “he’s what’s best for her? I assume he knows about her now, right? That’s why you went to meet with him last Spring, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“But he didn’t want to meet her then, right? He bailed, again, right?”

“It’s not that simple, you don’t know the whole story,” you said quietly and peered down the hallway to see if Ollie was listening. “It’s complicated, from beginning to end, so very complicated.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, regretting even including him in the conversation.

“Oh, even better. Bring an eight-year-old little girl to meet some sperm donor you knew from almost ten years ago and wreck her world by telling her this scum bag is her biological father.”

“You better watch your fucking mouth, Jim,” you growled lowly at him, suddenly very angry and defensive of your feelings about Dean. “He wasn’t some sperm donor. I loved him. I still do. He thought he was going to die, that’s why I told him about her, but he got better and he’s ok. So, yeah, I am going to tell her about him, but I wanted to give you the courtesy of a head’s up first. Something I am beginning to seriously regret.”

He laughed in disbelief and crossed his arms over his chest. “Clearly you’ve already made up your mind. But, if it backfires, and it will… it may be time to revisit our custody arrangement. Legally I am that girl’s father and I will do what I have to in order to protect her.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, honey. I would. I won’t stop you from bringing Ollie to meet him, but if she’s hurt by this in any way, you will have me and the court system to deal with.”

The drive home from Jim’s was quiet. Ollie wanted to spend the night since she was supposed to be going to his house the next morning anyway. Halfway between Jim’s and home, you pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed the burner cell from your purse. You found the number that called from the night before and waited for him to answer.

“Hello?” Dean’s voice came through. “Y/N?”

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, it’s me. I’ve been thinking about last night, and, uh… let’s meet, ok? Where are you?”

“Not that far from you, where do you want to meet up?”

“My house. I’ll text you the address.”

“You sure? What about—”

“She’s with Jim… my ex. It’s his weekend to have her.”

Dean was silent for what felt like forever but was maybe on 30 seconds. You could hear him exhale and just imagine his fists clenching opening and closed trying to quell his frustration. “Alright. Send me the address. Be there as soon as I can.”

* * *

True to his word, Dean arrived within a couple hours and without Sam. You heard the rumble of the Impala’s motor the minute he entered the neighborhood, which gave you a few minutes to compose yourself. Stopping at the hallway mirror, you fixed a few strands of hair that fell out of place and smoothed the lines of your shirt. His car stopped in front of the house, the creak of the doors acting as the final announcement of his arrival.

You opened the front door before he could knock. The sight of him approaching down the narrow walkway made your heart start pounding in your chest. Dean looked up and saw you standing there, hesitating for only a second. It made you think of how he looked when he saw you at the hotel months earlier. There was no anger, now. This time, he was smiling nervously.

He was in the doorway, his eyes scanning you slowly from head to toe before he could say anything. Finally, he reached out for your hand and meet your gaze. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied sheepishly, allowing him to mingle his fingers with yours. The spark… that damn spark was still there and you both felt it the instant your fingers touched. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

You threw your arms up around his neck, holding him tightly and burying your head into his neck. Dean hugged you back, lifting you off your feet in a fierce embrace. He exhaled unsteadily, finally returning your feet to the ground. He didn’t say anything else. For a moment he just studied your face and gently caressed the side of your cheek with his thumb. His tongue darted across his bottom lip, and in his eyes was a sea of unspoken feelings you could so easily drown in.

“Come on, come inside,” you said and closed the door behind him. “Can I get you something… coffee? Water? Um… I think there’s some apple juice—”

“A beer, maybe. If you have one. If not, I know you have a stash of whiskey somewhere. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

You turned and gave him a playfully exasperated look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Dean Winchester. I would never…”

“Uh huh. I seem to remember a two-hundred-mile trip to get tacos where you just happened to have a fifth of Jack hidden in your bag. Oh, and there was that one time we were at your apartment, I had come over after a fight with dad and you just _happened_ to have two bottles in the back of the closet.”

“Your point?”

“I know you got something somewhere in here,” he teased, the crinkles around his eyes becoming more pronounced with his growing smile.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed out two glass tumblers from the cabinet before going into the back of your pantry and retrieving your bottle of Gentleman Jack.

“Aaaand there it is,” he said, happily taking the bottle from you and pouring the liquor into both glasses.

You raised yours up in salute. “To you, and the whole being alive again thing.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed and threw back the booze. “Happy days.”

“So, you wanna fill me in? Last I saw or head from you… you left me a note saying goodbye. I get a text from Sam a month later saying you’re gone. Now… you’re not. I hope details of your resurrection are forthcoming.”

Dean pulled out one of the counter stools, unknowingly the same one his daughter sat in that morning. He saw the same pack of muffins on the counter and seemed to consider taking one before pushing them away.

“Werewolves, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shapeshifters… all real. You know that. You experienced it, yourself. Hell, even demons… all real. But never in my life did I believe that angels existed.”

“I swear if this is some cheesy pickup line to avoid the conversation, Dean—”

“No,” he laughed and poured another whiskey. “I wish it were, but no, that’s not it.”

“Then, what?”

“Angels are real, too. I was dead… in Hell, Y/N. And then, I wasn’t. I was in a box buried in the ground where Sam put me. Dug my way out of the dirty, and found Bobby, then Sam.”

“How long? I mean, how long were you—”

“In Hell? Forty years…” he trailed off, his eyes fixed on nothing ahead of him as he absently brought the glass to his lips.

“Forty—what? That makes no sense.”

“Four months up here, forty years in Hell. The details… I can’t… but then God thought I was worth saving. One of his angels, Castiel, pulled me up and put me back into my meat suit,” he downed the whiskey before shrugging off his coat and pulling up his sleeve to reveal a raised scar in the shape of a handprint.

“Jesus…” you muttered and lightly touched it.

“I don’t know about him… but Angels, God… they exist.”

You glared at him and rolled your eyes, then looked back at the scar. “I don’t know what to say… why? I mean, I am grateful they saved you, but why? If you made the deal Sam said you did…” you trailed off, still trying to take it all in.

“Because they need me. There’s something brewing and, they—the angels—want me and Sam to stop it.”

“What? Dean… what’s brewing?!”

“I didn’t come here to worry you, or anything like that—”

“Then tell me. Or I’ll just call Ellen and find out.”

“Ellen doesn’t know. She may not even know I’m back,” Dean said with a tinge of regret as he slid off the stool. He stood in front of you and took your hands into his. “I just wanted to see you again. Talk to you about maybe seeing Ollie. I don’t want to disrupt her life, you don’t even have to tell her who I am. I just… Y/N I need to see her.”

“Why?” you asked, unable to hide the tremor of fear that was present in your voice. “Why now? Are you afraid you’re going to die again? Because I can’t go through that again… I know we hadn’t seen each other in years, but, after the motel and being with you again—”

The thought of having to feel the loss of Dean again was enough to trigger a swell of panic and despair you never wanted to know again. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Y/N, I can’t promise you anything. I don’t know what is going to happen. I just know that I will fight like Hell to get this done and get back to you. Most importantly though, I can’t continue this mission unless I know you’re both safe. That none of this will come back to touch your lives.”

You felt your knees go weak and rested on the counter for support. John Winchester’s words floated through your mind, as did Jim’s warning, and your need for another whiskey was steadily rising. Sensing your thoughts, Dean poured more in your glass and slid it to you, raising his eyebrows with understanding as you threw it back, immediately pouring another.

“We’re quite the functional family, huh?”

You snorted a laugh and felt the slight burn of the brown liquor touch the inside of your nose. “I hate you…” you chortled in return, making him smile. It may have only lasted a moment, but any time that Dean would smile, it lifted you up as well.

When his expression turned serious, you knew that he feared dying again, but there was something else, too. “Dean, what aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitated, but when his eyes met yours, you thought maybe he felt comfortable enough to confide in you again. “It’s Sam. Everything going on… he’s in trouble. I don’t know how to help him other than to fight and try to stop the seals from breaking, stop what the demons are doing…”

“Seals?” you asked, but the lump in your throat prevented there to be much volume behind it.

Dean nodded slightly. “Old school testament shit. Like I said, angels, demons… God. It’s all real, or so they tell me. This war is Biblical, and if we can’t stop it, if the bad guys win, its not going to be good for anyone. I can’t lose Sam in this. Or you, or her. Before this goes any further, before we take on any more of these seals, I just needed to see you.”

“To meet Ollie,” you mused, more to yourself than to Dean.

“Yeah,” he said, lightly taking your chin in his fingers and turning it back to him. “And to see you. I wanted to come as soon as I was topside again, I hated leaving you like I did. It’s just, everything happened so fast. Trying to catch up on four months of time. Then there was Sam… the demons… it was chaos.”

You felt your skin go cold at the idea of demons. You heard some hunters talk about them over the years since spending time at Harvelle’s, but to know they were getting closer, more of them were walking around, made everything inside you quake with fear.

“I’m scared, Dean. I don’t like the sound of this, at all.”

He pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head before resting his chin there. “I won’t let anything hurt you or Ollie, Y/N. I promise you that.”

You stood that way, just holding onto each other for a while. With your head against his chest, the sound of his heart beating comforted you. If Dean was alive again, things would be alright. Years may have passed since you really spent time with him, but your reunion at the hotel months before, and the time you had now, just reaffirmed what you always knew… he was the love of your life, the father of your child, and you would do whatever you had to, to help him.

“Dean,” you said softly, without lifting your head from his chest, “will you stay tonight? Stay here with me? Tomorrow, I’ll go get Ollie so you can meet her. But for tonight…”

“I’m all yours,” he said and pulled back slightly from the embrace; just enough to bend down and kiss you softly. “And not just for tonight, either.”

* * *

The next day dawned to a rainy, overcast morning. Waking in your bed, you rolled over to see if everything the night before had been a dream. Spending hours, tangled in the sheets with Dean, slowly getting reacquainted with each other, unlike the rush and desperate need you had months before. When you found the bed empty, it was a treacherous case of Déjà vu of when you woke in the motel and he was already gone. Had he bailed again?

Fear shot through you as you lept out of the bed and grabbed your robe before haphazardly throwing it on and sprinting downstairs. Halfway there, the smell of crisping bacon and the sound of eggs sizzling instantly calmed you.

Entering the kitchen, you saw Dean standing at the stove and moving the eggs around the pan, so they didn’t stick. He was in his black T-shirt and jeans, his hair still soft and puffy from sleep. He had a tune playing in his mind that he was absently bopping his head too, little hints of mimicked guitar riffs coming from his lips of some Zeppelin song.

You were able to watch him for a minute or two before he sensed your presence. He moved around your kitchen like he had lived there for years and it felt like you were getting a glimpse of what life could have been if you didn’t send him away when you did.

Though he’d forgiven you, guilt still lived in your heart where that decision was concerned, and you were determined to find a way to make it up to him.

“Morning,” you said, finally entering the room. “Since when did you become so domestic?”

“Oh, this… nah… this is just breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee—the basics.”

“It smells great,” you said dreamily, inhaling the aroma of the coffee on the counter. “I feel spoiled.”

Dean put the spatula down and killed the heat on the eggs. He approached you, backing you into the corner where the two lengths of counter space came together. Dean put a hand down on the counters on either side of you and leaned in close. “You should be spoiled. Now that the past is in the past, and once this other business is done, I plan on doing just that.”

“Tell me again…” you whispered, recalling the night before and what he had said to you as you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you and I’m not gonna leave again,” he rasped before his tongue ran nervously across his lips.

Even with the weight of what he told you the day before, and the nerves around him meeting Ollie, you felt overwhelmed with love at that moment. You took his face in your hands and kissed him. His hands found their way under your robe and grabbed your hips, pulling you in and resting on the small of your back. He withdrew one hand and wrapped it around the back of your neck, elongating your kiss the kiss into something that could easily put breakfast on hold and make you go back upstairs.

Just as his lips parted, and the silky touch of his tongue mingled with yours, you heard the faint sound of car doors slamming from outside. Dean heard it too and swiftly pulled away from you, while you tightened the bathrobe’s belt. The muffled conversation was approaching the house and you realized then, that it was Jim and Ollie.

You looked at Dean, slightly panicked. Yes, he was going to meet her, but you hadn’t even called Jim yet to see if you could pick her up early. Again, sensing your thoughts, Dean gave you a knowing look and ducked into the TV room that lived off the kitchen, flushing himself against the wall so he wouldn’t be the first thing they saw when entering the house.

Jim’s key was in the lock just as you dumped the whiskey tumblers from the night before into the sink, trying to hide the evidence that you weren’t alone.

The front door opened, and you tried to look like you had just made breakfast, then realized how much food Dean had already made.

“Mommy?!” Ollie called out from the entryway, most likely kicking off her shoes and tossing them near the door like she always did. “Are you up?”

“In here, Ollie,” you called, hoping that the nerves in your tone weren’t noticeable to her or Jim.

Ollie’s small form bounced into the kitchen, her ponytail swinging behind her. “I forgot some stuff, so daddy brought me here to get it. He said you wouldn’t be home though,” she added with a frown. “Whoa, breakfast! Can I have some? Oh, and is that a new car outside?”

It hadn’t dawned on you until then that Dean’s car was out front, and it wasn’t exactly a car that easily blended into your neighborhood.

“That’s quite the showstopper,” Jim’s voice echoed from the hallway before rounding into the kitchen. “Haven’t seen a ’67 Impala in years. Looks mint, too.” He was keeping his tone jovial for Ollie’s sake, but resentment burned into you from his eyes because he knew exactly who the car belonged to. “Belong to someone you know?”

You could sense Dean’s frustration radiating from behind the wall of the living room. You imagined that he was desperate to walk in here and start balking at Jim for any number of things; especially now that Dean was more informed about your past with him. The night before, you had spent a good amount of time going over the years you missed together, which included a full accounting of your relationship with Ollie’s stepfather. Dean was not Jim’s biggest fan. Or vice versa.

“It belongs to a friend of mine. He’s in town for a visit and he stayed here last night,” you said to them both, but the direction of your glare went straight to Jim.

“Your friend who called the other night?” she asked before grabbing two pieces of bacon from the plate.

“Mhm, yeah. Would you like to meet him?” you asked her directly but passed a warning glance to Jim from the corner of your eye.

“Sure,” she shrugged and quickly gobbled both pieces.

“Well, uh, we don’t have time for that right now, sweetie,” Jim interjected. “We just stopped in to get your books, remember? Gotta get moving if you want to get to the library before—”

“Oh, I imagine there’s a little time to say hello,” Dean said with a smug grin as he rounded the corner from the living room, sinking daggers into Jim. But the moment his eyes found Olivia, it faded into a sweet, gentle smile.

You watched his expression as he took her in, examining everything from the strands of hair on her head to the socks she wore that had little pizzas on them. He briefly looked back at you, and what you saw in his eyes was everything you had hoped for. The moment he laid eyes on his daughter, Dean Winchester fell head over heels in love.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean crouched in front of Ollie, meeting her curious green eyes with his own. They examined each other for a moment, and it wasn’t until Ollie smiled, did you realize you were holding your breath. He held out his hand in greeting, his lips formed into a crooked grin also very similar to hers.

“Hi,” he said and shook her little hand gingerly. “I’m Dean. I’m—uh—an old friend of your moms.”

“Hi,” she replied shyly, and looked over at you unsure of what to do or say next. You nodded slightly, trying to encourage her with just the look. Ollie understood and turned back to him. “Nice to meet you.”

“Your mom told me a lot about you. I’m really excited that I finally get to meet you,” he said, releasing her hand and standing back up. He glanced at you before looking over at Jim who was quietly seething beneath the surface. Ignoring him, his attention went back to Ollie whose head was tilted to one side taking him.

You knew that look on her face all too well. She was trying to figure out what to make of him, but with Jim hovering, she instinctively knew better than to show too much interest.

“It was nice to meet you, too. I should go get my books, we have to get to the library.”

“Yeah, we really should get a move on, honey,” Jim encouraged in his best happy-dad voice, fooling no one, but Ollie.

“Hey, uh, maybe Dean could help you find them. I need to talk to dad for a second, anyway.” You turned your gaze to Dean. “They may be on the top shelf of her closet, and she can’t reach. Do you mind?”

“No,” he replied quickly and looked to Ollie. “Is that okay?”

She shrugged and nodded.

You smiled your best happy-mommy smile and sweetly pinched on her cheek. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“I’m great at hunting things down,” Dean teased, catching your eye roll and smirk from the corner of his eye. “Come on kiddo, lead the way. Let’s go find your books.”

\--

Dean drew in a shaky breath as he followed Ollie up the steps. It wasn’t like he didn’t imagine this moment; he had many, many times ever since (Y/N) told him about her before he went to Hell. Now that it was here though, he felt more nervous than he ever did facing any monster or situation, including Hell.

Most nights, he would try to imagine different scenarios in which he would be face-to-face with her, and each one ended with something he never thought he’d get… a hug from his kid. He wondered about her constantly—what did she like to eat, what shows did she like, what was her favorite book, did she like cars or rock music? It was a constant stream of consciousness that he didn’t have any answers to, until now.

Though he’d been at (Y/N)’s house since last night, he never thought to go in and look around Ollie’s room. When he followed her in there and saw the décor, he knew, without a doubt, that Ollie was very much his daughter.

The room was tidy, and if he didn’t already know, he never would have thought it was a little girl’s room. It was painted a light gray with pale blue accents. Along the walls, instead of princesses, makeup and dolls were posters of dragons, superheroes and video game characters. There were assembled Lego sets that adorned the book shelves and a large plastic set of drawers that had stickers of the small building blocks all over it.

“You’re a fan of Legos, huh?” he asked, his eyes trying to take it all in.

“I love them. That’s why my dad and I have to get to the library. Two Saturdays a month is Lego club and today I am building the plans I drew up.”

“Whoa, you made your own plans? What did you make?” he asked as she opened the closet door for him.

“I made blueprints to build my own Batmobile,” she shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Those dummies Troy and Scott said I couldn’t do it. So, I did it to prove I could.”

Internally Dean was screaming with excitement, joy, pride and a whole other host of emotions. Externally he simply nodded in satisfaction and resisted the urge to praise her with _‘That’s my girl’_.

“I bet your Batmobile is gonna blow them away. You know, I happen to know a lot about cars. So, if you need any advice, feel free to ask,” he said and reached up to the top shelf of her closet, grabbing the small stack of books. “These the ones?”

“Yup,” she said, taking them from him. “Thanks!”

“So, you like superheroes too, I see,” Dean said, gesturing towards all the posters. “Who’s your favorite?”

From her expression, Dean could see Ollie considered this a very serious question. “I dunno. I like Batman, a lot.”

“Batman, huh?”

“Yeah. Why? You don’t like Batman?” her small features wrinkled into a disbelieving expression.

“No! I love Batman. I actually think he’s the coolest. I mean, he’s got a great car, right?”

“Yup!” She bounced over to her desk and opened the top drawer. Returning to Dean she handed him a piece of paper. “That was my first drawing of the Lego Batmobile. Its not great, but it was a try. Mom says you gotta keep practicing.”

Dean took the paper, examining her petite handwriting and smiled when he saw a little heart over the “i” in Batmobile at the top of the page. The moment he was having with her was so easy going, and he never wanted it to end. At the same time, there was a part of him that felt anxious and unsure. He thought about the years he’d missed; the ones (Y/N) raised her, alone and then with Jim. There was so much he wasn’t there for; so many things about her he didn’t know.

Dean wanted to, more than anything. He decided right there that he would do anything to keep that little girl in his life.

He could feel her staring at him, so he smiled and handed her back the paper. “Your mom is pretty smart.”

“Sometimes,” she shrugged again, taking the paper and returning it to the drawer. “She just likes to nag me about eating healthy stuff.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, I have a brother, and he does the same thing to me.”

Ollie just rolled her eyes dramatically and shook her head. “Ugh, family,” she groaned.

She gathered up her books and headed towards the door. Dean took her lead and just as he was about to turn off the light and close the door, he paused and took another look into his daughter’s room. He could feel his heart rate start to increase, and a swell of stuff he didn’t want to be feeling as he headed back down to where Jim was.

He didn’t want Jim to catch him off guard, and he certainly wasn’t going to let him ruin his chances of getting to know Ollie.

\--

When they were clear of the room, you turned to Jim who looked as if he may blow. His face was bright red, and the vein engorged in his neck. “You must be so fucking happy now, huh?”

“Jim. Stop. I told you this could happen.”

“Not like this.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and felt the defensive anger rising. “I didn’t invite you over. You certainly didn’t call first.”

“Olivia needed her books, (Y/N). I didn’t realize I needed to call first. I certainly never thought you’d have him here, and to spend the night no less. Real nice, by the way.” The bite in his words felt as if he spit in your face. Angry and resentful, that’s how he turned anytime Dean’s name came up in the years since you met him.

“What makes you think he spent the night?” you challenged.

“Please. It’s early enough. No way he just arrived, and you happened to have all this food cooked. I’m not stupid. Naïve, yes. But not stupid.”

“Naïve? Ha! You’re not naïve, Jim. You always know exactly what you’re doing and what’s going on. Look, I don’t wanna fight. I wanted to talk to you about changing weekends. Since he’s here, I want her to—”

His cell phone started ringing and he held up a finger to stop you. “It’s work. Hold on.”

The imperfectly perfect timed phone call gave him an out to leave the room to talk to his assistant, but also time to come up with an excuse as to why he wouldn’t switch weekends with you. You could hear bits and pieces of his conversation, but even in fragments you could tell he wasn’t happy.

“…fix it! I’ll be there shortly,” he barked as he walked back into the kitchen, furiously hitting the end call button and shoving the phone back into his interior coat pocket.

“Everything alright?” you asked, knowing it wasn’t. But goading him was something you couldn’t pass up when he was behaving like an idiot.

“Peachy,” he growled. “You get your wish, we can switch. I have to head into the office and I won’t be back until late.” The resignation on his face gave him a seasick appearance and giving you a smug sense of satisfaction. Sometimes it was hard to look at him and imagine that you once loved him enough to marry him.

You went to say something but froze when Jim took two hulking steps towards you, positioning himself directly in front of you and his finger in your face.

“I swear to God, (Y/N), he’s NOT to stay here while Ollie is in the house. If I find out that he did—”

“Whoa, everything alright in here?” Dean asked from the doorway to the kitchen. 

Jim immediately backed off and pulled his lips into a tight, thin line. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, he turned to face Ollie, a sudden, wide grin across his face. “Everything’s fine. Just bummed I can’t take you to the library after all, honey. I’m sorry.”

Ollie’s face fell. “Why?” she whined, her bottom lip starting to pout. “We’re gonna miss Lego club!”

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.”

“Ollie, we can still go. I’ll take you.”

“You won’t be ready in time! We have to be there soon and you aren’t even dressed. It’ll take you forever to be ready.”

Dean couldn’t help but snort a laugh then reeled it in when he saw your expression. “Well, how about I take you and your mom can meet us there when she’s ready. This way you aren’t late. Is that alright?”

Jim was about to answer, but Ollie’s face perked up, elated at the idea. “Yes! Can he, mommy, pleeeease?” Her little hands were clasped together in hope and when you agreed, she pumped her fist into the air as she leapt from the stool.

“Well, I don—” Jim started but stopped when Olivia hugged him, completely oblivious to his objections. “Bye daddy! Have fun at work, I’ll let you know how it goes!” She released him and turned to Dean. “Come on! We gotta go now or Troy and Scott will get the best set of Legos! I’m gonna get my shoes on. Come on, Dean!”

The vein in Jim’s neck looked dangerously close to erupting, but he managed to hold himself together. The energy in the kitchen was heavy and tense. Dean glared at Jim with a satisfied smirk before he walked over towards you and rested his hand against the small of your back.

“You sure?”

“Yes, its fine. She’ll tell you how to get there, its only a few blocks away. I’ll meet up with you soon. Just need to shower quickly and get dressed.”

He nodded and leaned down to kiss you, despite feeling the daggers Jim was throwing at him from across the room. “I’ll text you when we get there.”

“Have fun, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

Dean went to leave the kitchen and you thought he would just breeze through, knowing that Ollie was waiting for him. Instead, he paused in front of Jim, and when he turned to face him, Dean seemed to realize then just how much bigger your ex-husband was. Unphased by his looming presence, Dean boldly stuck out his hand to Jim and smiled.

“We haven’t officially met. Dean Winchester,” he said, a look of slight amusement on his face. Without saying a word or shaking his hand, Jim pushed past Dean and left the kitchen. He mumbled something to Ollie who was waiting by the front door before you heard the screen slam against the frame. “Nice guy.”

“Yeah, he’s the best,” you said flatly and exhaled the nervous energy that had been building.

“You wanna tell me what I walked in on before?”

“Dean! Come on!” Ollie called from the foyer.

“Later. Go… take your daughter to the library,” you said and pursed your lips into a satisfied smile. “I’ll catch up shortly.”

A trifecta of thoughts and emotions played out across his expression in a matter of seconds. “My daughter,” he mused quietly, biting on his lower lip. He winked at you before leaving to grab his shoes and leave for the library with Ollie.

\--

It wasn’t more than thirty minutes later that you arrived at the library. After a very brisk shower and a quick clean up of the kitchen, you drove the three blocks to the local library and parked along the curb right behind Dean’s car.

Seeing it there still caught you by surprise. Just having Dean around again had been enough to spin you out, but the way he came back… fully and with love in his eyes, made it easier to handle the idea of him in your life again.

Once you made your way inside the library’s all-purpose room, you caught sight of Dean and Ollie sitting at a table in the corner of the room. Their heads were both intently staring at the table and sorting through the Lego pieces. You noticed they were both deeply buried in concentration, Ollie’s tongue peaking out of the corner of her mouth, and Dean biting down on his lower lip. The resemblance they shared was striking, both in physical features and mannerisms.

Seeing them sitting so close together like that for the first time, made your eyes wet. It wasn’t a sight you thought would ever be seen. Dean and Ollie, together… a dull ache grew in your chest, but it was warming and not empty. In fact, for the first time in a very, very long time, you felt nearly complete.

“Hey guys,” you said with a big smile on your face, as you sat at the table. “How’s the Batmobile?”

“Oh, we scrapped that, mom,” Ollie replied casually as she moved the black Lego pieces around the table.

“How come? Your blueprints were awesome!”

“Have you seen Dean’s car?! Its so cool! I wanted to make that instead!”

Shocked, you looked over at Dean whose face was downright beaming with pride. His eyes were soft with the love a father should have for his daughter, and he just shrugged. “Who am I to say no to that?”

“I think that’s pretty damn cool,” you said and leaned over to kiss Ollie’s hand.

“Mooom, stop. Troy and Scott are watching!” She jerked her head away and gave a hesitated, yet quick glance over to where her rivals sat. You stifled a laugh as she narrowed her eyes at them, trying to look threatening.

“Oh, sorry…” you apologized and held up your hands. “I’m going to go see when sign ups are for the next session and leave you guys to it.”

“Good idea,” Dean said, with his most serious face. “The little lady and I have some major work to do.”

You caught his gaze as you stood up and found that you were still able to have a silent conversation with him just through expression.

_You alright?_

_Of course, I got this._

He winked, and you left them to their business.

\--

“Well?” he asked tentatively.

Ollie narrowed her eyes and examined every inch of their Lego car and put it back on the table. She met Dean’s gaze and smiled.

“It’s perfect.”

A satisfied smirk graced her small features. Dean registered it as his favorite expression he’d seen from her, yet. He was trying to take note of every little thing he could, unsure if this would be his only day with her. Though he already knew he’d fight like hell to make sure it wasn’t.

“You sure? We have time for improvements.”

“Nope. Its good. I don’t even care if we win, I think it’s awesome,” she replied with awe.

Dean leaned back in the chair and just watched his daughter; he was completely enamored and was beginning to understand why parents would go to any lengths for their children. Dean knew he would do anything for Ollie. Whatever it took to make her safe and happy; he would do it without question or hesitation.

He felt someone watching and looked up, skimming the space and finding (Y/N) standing in the doorway, just watching them. She was leaning against the door frame, with one foot kicked over the other and her hands clasped together. Her head was rested lazily against the frame as she gazed at them dreamily.

Dean’s lips twitched a quick smile when she mouthed the word _‘hi’_ to him. He didn’t reply, but he was hit with a blast of memories, old feelings, and some new ones. So much had changed in twenty-four hours, he was having trouble believing it was all real. He should be with Sam chasing Lilith, stopping her from breaking the seals. And he would be, soon. This time was too precious to pass up, and even the angels would have to understand. One day off the mission wasn’t going to break the world, and if it did, it was worth it. Getting to spend the day with his daughter and the love of his life was worth pretty much anything.

Dean pried his eyes from (Y/N) and brought them back to Ollie. He didn’t realize that she was watching him, watch her mom. She looked back and forth between them, then settled her gaze on Dean.

“Do you like my mom?” she asked casually.

“I do.” Dean’s voice stayed steady, but inside he was a bundle of nervous swimming in uncharted territory.

“Will you be nice to her?”

“Absolutely. The nicest. I love your mom a lot, Ollie,” he said and really held her gaze. The way her green eyes watched him, made him feel a real connection with her for the first time.

After a minute or two, she came to a conclusion. “Ok. You can date her.” Ollie paused and glanced over at her mom who was now talking to one of the other moms. “’Cause I think she likes you too.”

Dean felt a flutter of boyish nerves rumble in his stomach. “Oh yeah? What makes you say that?”

“She never lets boys sleep over. Not since daddy left. She let you sleep over, and she let you take me for a ride without her. That’s _neeever_ happened before. Not even with her friends from work. Well, except Auntie El. I can go anywhere with her.”

“That’s right, I forgot you know Ellen,” Dean mused, still partially shocked at everything that was happening. “I haven’t seen her in a long time. How is she?”

“You know Auntie El?” Ollie exclaimed, so excited she nearly jumped out of her seat.

Dean laughed. “I do. Very well, actually.”

“I love Auntie El, and Jo. Mommy and Jo used to hang out a lot together and play darts. Auntie El and I used to watch them and make bets with candy on who would win.”

“Let me guess, Jo?”

Ollie giggled and shook her head. “Nope. My mom is awesome at darts. Jo used to get so mad!” She put a hand over her mouth and snickered.

“Well, maybe I can convince your mom to take a road trip there soon to visit. Would you like that?”

“Hell yeah!” she replied, causing Dean to choke on his laugh.

“Are you allowed to say that?”

“Mom says language and sarcasm in moderation,” she admitted with a shrug.

“I said it before, I’ll say it again. You got yourself one smart mom.”

Before Ollie could respond, time on the building part was called and Mrs. Pixley, the librarian in charge of the club, went from table to table examining the work done by the kids and their parents. When she reached Ollie and Dean’s table, she was slightly taken aback to see someone unfamiliar sitting there.

“Hello Olivia, who is this you have with you today?”

“This is Dean,” she said, and clapped his shoulder amicably, “he’s my mommy’s _special_ friend.” She gave the woman an over-zealous, animated wink.

Dean blushed and laughed nervously. “Kids? You know?” He cleared his throat when he saw she either _didn’t_ know, or just had no sense of humor about it. “Nice to meet you,” he said and held out a hand.

She shook it and gave him a polite smile as she quickly retracted her hand. “Yes, nice to meet you,” she said flatly, then turned back to Ollie. “Where’s your dad today? I do so enjoy chatting with him.”

“He had to work, and my mom wasn’t ready, so Dean brought me. We made a way better project then the Batmobile.” She picked up the car and handed it to Mrs. Pixley.

“Oh, well, isn’t this fine work. You’re very creative, Olivia.”

“Thanks! It was so much fun!”

“Well, that’s what really matters, isn’t it?” Mrs. Pixley asked with a fake smile as she put down the creation.

Dean didn’t like her one bit. There was something off about her and though he couldn’t put his finger on it, the simple fact that she liked talking to Jim was enough to raise a red flag.

Mrs. Pixley walked away back towards her desk to decide the winner of the build competition. It took her only a few minutes to come back and call everyone’s attention to the middle of the room.

“Everyone did such a spectacular job, and it made it very difficult to pick one winner. Everyone will be able to pick a prize from the treasure chest because of the hard work, dedication and concentration you have put into what you created. Our overall winner will also win a gift card to the Sky Zone Trampoline park. That winner is, Troy for his model of the Batmobile!”

Dean’s heart sank for Ollie, who looked like she had just been knocked over. Her face fell immediately, and she cast her eyes to the floor. He looked up for (Y/N) who was starting to approach after hearing that Ollie didn’t win. Dean waved her off and gave her another wordless answer, _I got this._

“Hey,” he said, slapping his palm to his knee, “so what if Troy won. You built a damn cool car.”

Ollie looked up and Dean was surprised to see the girl wasn’t about to cry. Instead, he found steel in her gaze and frustration in her body language.

“Oh, I know. Our car was the best. I’m mad because Mrs. Pixley wasn’t fair.”

“How so?”

She shrugged. “If dad was here, I would have won because she likes him. Always making those eyes at him, like you do with mommy.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Gotcha. Well, we could lodge a complaint. We gotta find the library board, go straight to the top! The President of the library, if we have too,” he teased.

Ollie laughed and it light up her entire face, right along with Dean’s heart. How was it possible to love someone that much in such little time?

“Hey, so do we get to keep these?” he asked, picking up the car.

Ollie nodded.

“Awesome. Can I keep it? I’d love to have this with me when I’m on the road. Something to remember you by.”

“Sure,” she said, “you can keep it. I’m gonna build another one when I get home. Then we’ll having matching Lego cars! I got some improvements in mind.”

“Kid, that’s the best idea I’ve heard in forever.”

Dean got Ollie settled in the back seat and met up with you at the trunk of his car. It was the first moment you had alone with him since Jim and Ollie showed up at the house that morning. You were still getting used to the idea of him being around and being around Ollie most of all.

“Hey,” you said, and smiled when he immediately reached out and pulled you into a huge. “You alright there, big guy?”

“Holy shit, kids are…” he exhaled deeply and kissed the top of your head. “What a morning.”

“You ain’t kidding. I wanted you to meet her, but that was… I don’t even know. I’m sorry Jim was an asshole.”

“Yeah, what was that about? I get the guy doesn’t like me, but in front of her?”

“I think he wanted to mark his territory,” you shrugged.

Dean’s face wrinkled in disgust. “Oh, ewe, why?”

“Sorry,” you laughed and reached up to kiss him. “Forgive me?”

“Mhm, you’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

“I do. You know what else, though? We never did get to eat that big ass breakfast, and I’m starving. Feel like going for lunch?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I can definitely eat.”

“Good. So, before we get in there, how did it go with Ollie?”

“(Y/N), she is an amazing kid. I was in constant awe of her.”

“I am too. She’s pretty great.”

“You both are,” he said, softer now. This time he bent down to kiss you, letting his lips linger on yours. A knock on the rear window caused you to both pull away.

Ollie rolled her eyes and shouted from the backseat. “Come on you two! You can kiss later! Let’s go eat!”

“Jesus, she really is mine, isn’t she?” Dean teased and walked around to the driver’s side of the car.

“Dean, you have no idea…” you said and climbed into the passenger side.

\--

Lunch was at yours and Ollie’s favorite diner. After the meals had been ordered, they told you about the parts of the building competition that you missed. Dean and Ollie chatted casually about everything under the sun. As you watched them talk, you were filled with an overwhelming feeling of admiration for both. This is how things should have always been.

The waitress brought the food, and as you ate, Dean asked Ollie more about school, what subjects she liked— _science and history_ —and she asked him about what he did for work. Dean hesitated and looked to you, unsure of what to say.

“Remember how I told you Aunt Ellen works with people who go out and help people with problems that the police can’t handle?”

Ollie nodded.

“Well, that’s what Dean does, too. Him and his brother, Sam, they travel all around the country to help people.”

“Oh,” she said, and got quiet.

You and Dean shared a pensive glance. Ollie was just pushing food around her plate, and her expression told you she was deep in thought. You passed Dean a facial shrug and went back to your food.

Ollie waited another beat and seemed ready to say what she wanted to. “Mommy, I wanna ask a question, but,” she paused, looked at Dean and began to chew on her lower lip.

“But, what?”

“I’m not sure if its appropriate,” she said the last word slower, to make sure she got the pronunciation right.

“Its okay, Ollie, ask whatever you want too.”

“Okay,” she inhaled, then exhaled slowly. “Is Dean my bibliolgical daddy?”

You couldn’t help but let a little chuckle out at her mispronunciation before you could reign it in and respond to her sudden, and somewhat surprising question.

“You mean, biological?”

She nodded. You passed a look to Dean, who was clearly taken aback by her question. He looked a little pale for a moment and grabbed his drink to take a long sip of his soda. Nervous or not; ready or not, it was time she knew.

“Yes, Olivia. Dean is your biological dad. How did you know?”

“I look like him. We both have freckles and green eyes.”

“That’s it?”

She shook her head but cast her eyes away from your gaze as if she had done something wrong.

“What is it?” you asked, putting down your fork and stretching your hand across the table to her.

“I remember hearing you and daddy fighting about Dean once. I heard daddy say something about him being a sperm donor. I didn’t know what that meant then, but I looked it up on Sally Sutton’s phone.”

Dean nearly choked on his drink. You closed your eyes and slowly shook your head. “Honey, you can ask me, you don’t need to look stuff like that up on Sally Sutton’s phone. Why does an eight-year-old have their own phone, anyway?”

“Moooom,” Ollie groaned and sighed.

“Fine, whatever… getting back to the point… I’m sorry you heard us fighting, I know we did that a lot. We still do, but we’re trying to be better. As far as Dean goes, he and I hadn’t seen each other in a really long time. But recently he came back to town and I told him about you.”

“I didn’t know—” Dean started, his voice raspy before it broke. “But its not your mom’s fault. Things just happened, back then. The important thing is that I know now.”

Ollie looked at him, but differently than she did before. Maybe she was trying to find more of herself in his face, or maybe she was trying to decide if he was an alright person to be her dad. Whatever it was, it was very different.

“Ok,” she said finally before going back to eating the food, instead of picking at it.

“Ok?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, you can be my dad. My biblio—real—dad.”

Dean didn’t even bother trying to hide his smile. “I can?”

“Sure. You’re cool. You like my mom, and you like cool stuff like Batman and Legos.”

“I’m cool,” he repeated, very proud of that fact.

You snickered at his expression before turning back to your daughter. “Ollie, do you have any other questions? Whatever you’re thinking, I want you to know you can tell either of us.”

“What does daddy think?” she asked.

“About what, exactly?”

“Dean.”

“Well,” you started and paused to give Dean an apologetic look. “I can’t speak for Daddy, Ol, but, if I were to guess, he’s probably not thrilled that Dean is back in my life. In our lives.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you lied. You knew why but you weren’t going to bad mouth Jim to her. Regardless of who he was becoming, Olivia still loved him. “You may have to talk to him about that.”

“Ok.” She seemed at peace with your answer and continued her lunch. “One more question. What can I call you?”

Dean stumbled over his words in trying to answer her question. “Uh, well, I guess… whatever. You know, whatever your comfortable with. Dean is fine… Dad is ok, too,” he trialed off. “Pa—papa?” he said, uncertain, and immediately shook his head no. “Maybe not that…”

Ollie didn’t respond, she just nodded. The table got quiet, but only for a moment. Your cell phone began ringing and once you fished it from your pocket, you saw it was Jim. Sliding from the booth, you held it up to let them know you were going to take the call.

Walking away from the table, you heard Ollie and Dean slip into a conversation about Batman and pressed the answer button, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hi Jim,” you answered.

“Where are you?”

“I’m great, thanks! How are you?” you continued, ignoring his demanding question.

“(Y/N), I’m not in the mood. Where are you and Olivia?”

“We are eating lunch at the diner. Why?”

“I want you to bring her back to my place when you’re done. Work was a bust, so I’m home and I want my weekend with her.”

You sighed, loudly. “Come on, Jim. Don’t do this. You can see her after school on Monday.”

“No, I want my weekend.”

“You’re behaving like a child,” you admonished, trying to keep your growing frustration in check.

“Do not fucking start with me. She’s my kid, too. I want my weekend.”

You lowered the phone from your ear and took a few calming breaths before responding.

“I really wish you would just be reasonable. She’s having fun, Jim.”

“Bring her to my house, or I will remember to tell my lawyer that you have a wanted felon staying in your house.”

Your blood ran cold and you realized just how low he would sink to get what he wanted. You figured he had done research on Dean, but had no idea exactly what he would find.

“Fine. I’ll bring her to your house tonight. But tomorrow is Sunday and I want her home by five,” you said and hung up before he could respond. You looked down the other end of the diner where they were talking and laughing together. The idea of breaking that up hurt your heart, and you knew it would hurt Dean’s, too. But, to avoid a bigger argument with Jim, you were going to have too.

Sitting back down in the booth, you tried to swallow down the disappointment that coated your tone. “So, change of plans. Dad is done with work and wants you to spend the night at his place, after all.”

You saw Dean’s expression fall from joyous to pissed in no time at all. Even Ollie seemed disappointed.

“Oh,” she said simply, and looked back to Dean. “How long are you staying for?”

Dean passed a look to you, as if you could answer her. You just shrugged and relayed through your expression that was entirely up to him.

“I don’t know, how long do you want me to stay?” he asked, leaning forward on the table.

She shrugged, and suddenly seemed like a very young, little girl again. “Maybe, forever?”

You had to turn your head from her, so she didn’t see the wetness that stung at the corners of your eyes. Dean struggled with his own feelings for a moment. He was able to pull them back and smile at her. “That sounds damn good to me, kid.”

\--

After a round of chocolate cream pie for dessert, and a stop at the park to swing on the swings and monkey bars, you and Dean were pulling up to Jim’s house to drop Ollie off. Dean put the car in park but didn’t turn off the engine.

“Probably best if I stay in the car,” he said quietly before turning to face Ollie in the back seat. “I had a great first day with you.”

“Me too,” she smiled and leaned forward, hugging him from behind. He hugged her back and flashed to those dozens of day dreams he’d had; then realized he never imagined a hug like that, that somehow made it even more special.

“See you soon, okay?” he said giving her one last squeeze.

“Yeah!” she smiled and hopped out the backseat.

You gave Dean a wink and opened your door. “I’ll be right back.”

Taking Ollie’s hand, you walked her to the front door. Giving her hand a squeeze, you kissed the top of her head and paused outside of the front door.

“I love you, Olivia. You handled that pretty great.”

“I kinda knew when I saw him. I just needed to be sure.”

“You’re one smart kid,” you said with a wink.

“Like Dean says, I got a smart mom. Guess it comes from you.”

You chuckled and hugged her tight. “I guess it does.”

Just as you were about to ring the bell, Jim pulled the door open and both yours, and Olivia’s smile faded. Jim looked ragged, his features drawn, circles under his eyes, and his hair mussy.

“Wow. Rough day at the office?” you asked, teasingly, but he didn’t respond with humor.

“Yes,” he said simply and turned to Olivia. “Have fun at the library?”

“Yeah! We didn’t win, but we made a cool car,” she said, walking into the house. You followed her in and seemed to raise the same question Olivia had at the same time. “Where’s Max and Cody?”

“Oh,” Jim responded, he looked around, slightly confused. “Uh, Max and Cody… the dogs… they are outside.”

Olivia shrugged but you could tell she was bothered by that. The dogs _always_ greeted her at the door. She took off her coat and hung it on the hook, then took off her shoes before walking back towards you for another hug.

“I love you mommy, see you tomorrow. Can I go watch tv?”

You and Jim both nodded and she scurried off towards the tv room. You knew it was just an excuse for her to go check on the dogs. She loved those dogs something fierce.

When she was out of ear shot, you cleared your throat and resolved to tell Jim the news you dreaded to have to tell him.

“So, you should know that Olivia knows Dean is her biological father.”

The flash of anger that came over his face, made you take a tentative step back towards the door. You’d see him lose his temper throughout the years, but this was like nothing you’d experienced with him before. The only thing that made you feel better was how close you were to the screen door and a chance to bolt.

“What?” he growled, taking a few steps closer. “How?”

“She asked, Jim. I wasn’t going to lie to her.”

“She asked? Bullshit. There’s no way she would know unless you told her.”

“I didn’t tell her. She flat out asked. Ask her yourself.”

His nostrils were flaring, that signature vein popping from his neck, and his face red with anger. “You’re such a meddling bitch, you know that?”

That’s when he grabbed your arm and shoved you back into the open front door hard enough for your head to bounce off the vinyl just to the side of the door knocker.

Dean watched (Y/N) and Olivia walk hand-in-hand towards the house, and he smiled. Despite all the chaos of what was happening with his hunting life, his personal life was finding a direction that he never thought possible. Just the taste of it that day, was enough to make him crave it more.

He reflected on their day, and casually glanced in the back seat where Ollie had been throughout the day. That’s when he noticed she forgot her take-out piece of pie. Much like her old man, she had trouble deciding on which to get, so he got her the second piece to bring home.

Grabbing the box, Dean hopped out of the car and started walking to the house. As he got closer to the front door, he could see Jim and (Y/N) inside. He hesitated for a moment, when he read Jim’s expression and body language. When he saw the man start approaching (Y/N), he took the last few steps at a jog. Then, when Dean watched Jim push her forcibly up against the front door, he dropped the pie and ran.

Dean threw open the screen door and was about to draw his arm back to punch Jim in the face, when he saw Ollie was at the end of the hallway. Her eyes were huge at what she was watching unfold.

(Y/N) noticed her, at the same time Dean did.

“Jim!” she yelled and looked back at Olivia.

Jim saw the girl standing there and released his grip on her. Dean grabbed (Y/N)’s sleeve and pulled her to stand behind him. His fists clenching in and out, ready to pounce on the man if he tried to pull something else. When he spoke, his tone was calm, cool and collected.

“Hey, Ollie. Change of plans again honey, sorry,” Dean starred Jim down, challenging him to contradict what he said. “Get your shoes and coat back on. Daddy Jim isn’t feeling well after all and needs to sleep it off. You’re gonna come back home with us.”

Jim didn’t say a word, but he held Dean’s glare with a seething anger burning in his dark eyes. (Y/N) moved out from behind Dean and went down the hallway to take Olivia’s hand.

“Come on baby, let’s go home for tonight, okay?”

She just nodded. When she passed Jim, she grabbed her shoes and coat, then looked up at him with sad eyes and simply said, “Night daddy.”

(Y/N) walked her out of the house and out to the idling Impala. Dean stayed behind a moment and when the girls were safely in the car, he took a few steps to close the distance between him and Jim.

Jim didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. Dean leaned in closer, his voice low and raspy. **_“If you ever touch her again… I’ll break your face.”_** Dean turned and left the house, letting the screen door slam behind him.

  


“Yeah, you do that, pal,” he mumbled as he watched him go.

Jim waited until Dean got in the car and take off down the road. He inhaled deeply, and slowly closed, and locked the front door. He walked down the hallway towards the tv room, where the sliding doors opened into the back yard. Opening the door, the two, large golden retrievers ran into the house, jumping around and excited to see Olivia, whose scent was all over the room, but she wasn’t. Confused, the dogs looked at Jim and whined as they sat and pawed at him.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” he asked them. “Fuckin’ Winchester made her leave, take it up with him.” Jim’s eyes flashed black at the dogs, who laid down and whined louder as they hid their faces from the thing living inside their master.

“Don’t you worry though, I’ll get the little brat back.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean drove away, putting Jim’s house in his rearview mirror as quickly as he could. He checked on Ollie in the backseat a few times, and the girl never moved. She was huddled up against the rear passenger door, her knees drawn up into her chest, and her gaze transfixed out of the window. (Y/N) was pretty much the same way, except for her knees drawn up, and Dean was in awe at how much love and fear he had with both of them in mind.

“Hey,” he said and placed a hand on her knee. It was enough to break the spell and to look over at him instead. “You alright?”

“Physically, yeah, I’m fine. He more startled me than anything,” she said softly and stole a glance back to Olivia. “I hate that she saw it though.”

“What was wrong with him?” Ollie’s voice chimed in from the back. She finally moved, leaning forward in the middle of the seat. “Why did he do that to you, mommy?”

“He was mad at me, and he overreacted. I think your dad was having a bad day, and—”

“He took it out on you, again,” Ollie finished and leaned back in the seat.

“What? Again?” Dean asked sharply, looking back and forth between (Y/N) and the road ahead.

“No, it’s not what you think. Relax,” she reassured him and turned around to face Ollie. “Can we talk about it tomorrow, Ol? Its been a long day, and I just kind of want to go home. Is that alright?”

Dean looked up in the rearview and saw her nod softly. When she settled back against the door, he cleared his throat to get (Y/N)’s attention.

“About going home… I think that’s not a great idea. I don’t like what just happened back there. I don’t trust that guy. He’s got a key to your house and he could show up at any time.”

“What am I supposed to do? Where do I go? He’s got partial custody of her, Dean. I can’t stop him from taking her.”

Dean looked thoughtful for a minute until an idea took shape in his head. “Road trip. Who’s up for a road trip?” he said loud enough for Ollie to hear.

“To where?” (Y/N) asked her expression a mixture of concern and surprise.

“Roadhouse. Go see Ellen and Jo. It’s been a while since I’ve dropped in. Hell, I don’t even know if she knows I’m topside again.”

“I can’t just pick up and leave. Ollie and school, I have work…”

“Alright. Tell me this. Who picks her up from school? You or Jim?”

“We alternate,” she sighed and realized his meaning. “And his day is Monday.”

“After that, you tell me… would he take her and run? Not return her to you?”

She turned and watched Ollie in the back seat lost in thought. When she turned back to Dean, she nodded slowly.

“Ok then. Call off work and tell school she’s sick. We’re going to Ellen’s.”

“Fine. I still need to go home first, though. You can stand watch if you want, but I need to pack some stuff for her.”

Dean nodded hesitantly. “Ten minutes, then we’re gone. Okay?”

(Y/N) sighed softly. “Ten minutes, and we’re gone.”

[Originally posted by fotokopicibierkek](https://tmblr.co/Z6L6yk2G4pV0L)

Ollie just kept looking out of the window, watching the neighborhoods go by in a blur. Dean was driving fast, and normally, that would scare her. Not today. Today she was grateful that she was with someone who could drive fast. Her dad had scared her badly and the faster she could get away from him and the house, the better.

There was so much about grown-ups that she didn’t understand. They were always thinking, or angry, or sad. None of them could ever just talk to each other. She kept wondering why her dad had gotten so angry with her mom. Ollie wasn’t dumb, she knew it had to do with Dean, but she thought her dad would have been happy to know that her ‘bibiological’ daddy was a really nice guy.

Ollie couldn’t shake the way his face looked, either. When she walked into the house, his features were swollen, his skin looked like it had ash all over it and for a second, she could have sworn his eyes were almost black. She didn’t understand how that could be, but then she blinked, and he looked ok again. She was too curious as to where the dogs were, so she brushed it off at first, but the image wouldn’t leave her memory.

 _And what was that smell?_ She asked herself, when remembered walking into the tv room, excepting to see Max and Cody waiting, or at least on the other side of the sliding glass door. She couldn’t think of what it reminded her of, but certainly nothing she had ever smelled in her dad’s house before.

No sign of the dogs, either.

That’s when the voices got loud, and she knew they were fighting again. When she stepped back into the hallway, and her dad had her mom up against the door, she nearly screamed. She had this instant, horrible vision that Daddy Jim was going to snap her mother’s neck right in front of her.

That’s when Dean busted in, and they all noticed her standing there. She was frozen. Ollie wanted to run straight to her mom, but she was petrified to go past her father. When her mom finally was free and retrieved her, she didn’t know what to say to him except, ‘ _Night daddy_ ’. Truth was, she didn’t want to ever call him daddy, again. Especially not with how badly he scared her.

Olivia saw Dean looking at her in the rearview mirror and gave him a crooked smile before looking back out the window. When she was sure he wasn’t watching anymore, she studied him from the corner of her eyes.

 _‘We have the same nose,’_ she thought, ‘ _same color hair, too. I wonder if that means I’ll grow up to be like him.’_ A lot of questions ran around her head about this guy that was suddenly thrust into her life. So many questions in fact, it was making her dizzy. But, he did say that he would stick around… _maybe forever_ … so she had all the time in the world to get them answered.

She hoped.

[Originally posted by justjensenanddean](https://tmblr.co/ZXeJsu2La9cfv)

After Dean swept the house and gave you the all clear, you went upstairs and packed a few extra bags for the trip to the Roadhouse. It was a trip you made often enough, and already had a to-go bag ready for both you and Ollie, but you made sure to some of her favorite things. Part of you was excited to see Ellen again, it had been a long time since you’d spent any real quality time with her, or Jo. However, they were the closest thing you had to family, other than Olivia, so considering the situation with Jim, going there may be the best choice.

You found Ollie in her room, slowly sorting through a few of her favorite books. Her extra backpack was opened on her bed, and as you sat on the corner of the mattress, you peaked inside. Not surprisingly, you saw her favorite stuffed animal, two good sized plastic containers of Legos, her diary, pens and a box of crayons.

“Did you decide which book to take?” you asked softly, knowing she was struggling with the events of the evening.

She turned around slowly and held up the book _Wings of Fire_. Her love for dragons was endless, and the old paperback had been read and loved hard. Ollie tossed it into her backpack, along with her tablet and charger, before zipping it up.

“All packed,” she stated, her small nose wrinkling at the sting of tears you noticed in her eyes.

You opened your arms for her, and she felt into them immediately. “Aw, baby, come here.”

Olivia Kate, your very mature minded, intelligent, creative and beautiful daughter, cried in your arms as if she was a toddler again. She didn’t stop to think if anyone else could be watching as she had over the last year or so, nor did she try and explain why she was so upset. She didn’t have too. It was a day full of big surprises, though she was far older mentally and emotionally as her years would dictate, it was still a lot for her to handle.

You stroked her hair, now in a loose ponytail. Gently, you guided the scrunchie from her hair and lightly combed your fingers through it, like she used to ask you to do when she was little. It was calming for her, and after a minute or two her sobs stopped, and a tiny muffled sniffle came from her nose that was still buried in your chest. When she pulled back and looked up at you, her eyes were red and swollen, but there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

“Thank you, mommy,” she sniffed and ran her sleeve under her nose, then noticed the large wet blotch on your shirt from her tears. “Guess we should both change our shirts before we go, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Yes. We probably should. But before we do… are you alright? I know I said we’d talk tomorrow, but if you want to now, we can.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I’m just sad. Daddy scared me… his face scared me. Do you think he hurt Max and Cody?”

“No, why would he?” you asked. Yes, it had been odd the dogs didn’t greet her, but Jim would never, ever hurt them. They were loved as much as Ollie was.

“I don’t know. They didn’t meet me like always, and they weren’t in the tv room. I guess they could have been outside, but I didn’t hear them either.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re alright. How about I call Daddy tomorrow and check up on them? I’m sure he’ll call to see how you are, and I promise to ask him about the dogs, okay?”

“Okay,” she said and sat next to you on the bed, her small hands clasped together in her lap. “But… can you ask how he is, too?”

“You’re worried about him?”

“Mhm. He looked funny.”

You brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “his face was funny… like, it just didn’t look right. And the house smelled funny.”

“I don’t remember smelling anything,” you said, your nerves starting to clench with the details she was giving you.

“In the tv room, it smelled like rotten eggs. Daddy doesn’t even like eggs. Do you think he ate some and got sick? That’s why he was being a dick?”

“Olivia,” you sighed, and fought the urge to laugh, “please don’t call him that. Even if he is most of the time.”

“Okay, sorry,” she said, and got up from the mattress. “But why was he?”

The decision to be as honest with her as you could was made years before. Always taking a pause to find a way to explain things as simply as possible, you tried to be upfront and yet, still delicate when it came to “grown-up” stuff. Olivia had handled a lot gracefully for a kid her age, and something in you always figured she inherited that from Dean.

Growing up the way he did, he had to roll with the punches and grow up well before he should have had to. You shielded Ollie from that life for the most part, allowing her to be a kid for as long as she could. Even still, she had the innate ability to handle tough situations almost seamlessly and you envied her for it.

“Well, that’s complicated, baby. The only thing I can really say for sure is that Daddy is upset with me. I’m not saying he shouldn’t be. Everyone is entitled to feel how they feel, but what was wrong was how he put his hands on me and was too rough.”

“I didn’t like that. Is it okay if I don’t go over for a little while?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Besides, we have a road trip, right? Excited to go and visit Aunt Ellen and Jo? I bet they will be soooo excited to see you!”

Olivia laughed and strapped her backpack on. “Yeah, I miss them. But, mommy…”

“Hmm?”

“Is Dean gonna live with us now?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, you stood up from the bed and opened up your hand for her to take. When she did, you started walking her towards the bedroom door and paused right before leaving the room.

“What would you think if he did?”

“It would be okay, I think. He makes me feel safe.”

You nodded. “He makes me feel safe, too, baby. That’s something we can worry about after the road trip, okay?”

“Okay,” she said and turned off the light before leading you out and closing the door.

* * *

Within the ten-minute time frame, you made it back to the Impala with your bags, and house all locked up. It was just about dusk, leaving just enough light for there to still be people out and about in your neighborhood. Convinced Jim was going to pull up any moment, you were looking around apprehensively as Dean popped the trunk.

“Well, twice in one day! How lucky am I?” a voice called out from off to the right of the driveway.

Mrs. Pixley, from the library, was strolling down the sidewalk with a satchel full of books and an umbrella in her hands. When she got closer, she stopped to say a proper greeting to Ollie.

“Hello, Olivia. Long time no see,” she said and winked, making Ollie giggle.

“Hi Mrs. Pixley,” she said and turned back to look at you wearily.

“Oh, going on a trip?” the librarian asked when she noticed Dean loading the bags into the trunk.

“Um, yes, visiting family,” you replied and took Ollie by the shoulders, drawing her closer. “Taking a stroll?”

“Just walking home. Since the rain stopped this morning, figured I would save the husband a trip out. I only live up the road, don’tcha know?”

“Oh, I had no idea, actually,” you said, and felt a swell of relief once you heard the trunk close. To Ollie, “Why don’t you say goodbye to Mrs. Pixley and go get in the car, okay? We should get going.”

“Well, you all have a lovely trip,” she said, a plastic smile glued onto her normally sour-pussed face.

Dean made sure Ollie was secured in the backseat and gave you a confused look over top of the car. You shrugged with your expression and turned to give the older woman a cursory glance before getting in the front seat.

Backing from the driveway, you saw her still standing off to the side, waiting for the car to go by and waving all the while. Dean gave you another fleeting glance before driving away from the house.

“That woman creeps me the hell out,” he mumbled, putting it in gear and heading down the road. 

You nodded in agreement. “You’re not alone, there.”

Once the Impala was out of view, Mrs. Pixley reached a hand into the satchel and pulled out a phone. Dialing, she waited until he picked up and growled a greeting.

“They just left. Had bags in the trunk saying they were going on a family vacation.”

She waited for her orders and when she received them all, she simply nodded. “Will do. On my way.”

Mrs. Pixley closed the phone and took a few steps towards the house Dean Winchester and his daughter just left from. If anyone had been watching from their windows, they would have seen the librarian in the driveway one second, a cloud of black smoke fly skyward from her mouth, then see the body drop to the ground, dead.

Dean drove the few hours to reach Harvelle’s just around midnight. Ollie had long since fallen asleep in the back seat, and you nodded off shortly after. The lack of engine noise is what woke you as soon as Dean turned off the Impala’s ignition.

“Rise and shine,” he said and patted your knee. “We’re here.”

Groggily, you sat up and stretched until you saw the faint lights of the Harvelle’s Roadhouse sign in the nighttime fog. You gave him a wan smile and turned to check on Ollie in the backseat. She was laying down, head on her backpack and her jacket draped over her as a blanket.

“I should have brought her pillow and blanket,” you said absently and turned towards Dean. “Did we overreact, maybe? I mean—”

“No,” he said firmly, but softly as to not wake Olivia. “We didn’t overreact. Something wasn’t right there. I get he’s a dick—”

“We gotta stop that, Dean. She called him that before at the house. While she’s not wrong, I’d prefer if our eight-year-old-daughter didn’t go straight to profanity when describing her step-father.”

Dean rolled his eyes and relented. “Fine. I get he’s a _jerk_ , and I don’t know him like you do, but something was very wrong there. The whole thing was just strange. He agrees to switch weekends, but then hours later suddenly changed his mind? Come on. I’ve known plenty of guys like that. He’s a control freak and he’s pissed, so he’s not gonna stop acting out till he gets what he wants.”

Dean’s assessment of the situation, and Ollie’s earlier details gave you that unsettled feeling again.

“Dean… Ollie was worried about him because she said his face looked weird. Then, she said the other room at his house smelled like rotten egg and was worried because the dogs didn’t greet her either. They _always_ greet her. Always.”

You brought your gaze slowly up to meet his, and the same thought passed through both your minds at the same time. Only Dean was the one who had the balls to say it.

“You think he was possessed?”

You shrugged. “You’re the expert, here. I told you, I know the deal, but only in what I hear from Ellen and the hunter’s I’ve helped her stitch up. I’ve haven’t encountered so much as a ghost since I first met you on that job you worked a million years ago.”

The mention of your first meeting with Dean made him smile. “That was a hell of a case,” he mused, his focus momentarily lost and intent on you.

“Alright, focus up, Winchester,” you teased. “we can revisit that another time. Do you think he was?”

Dean considered it and eventually nodded. “With everything that’s going on right now, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Everything that’s going on…” you repeated, more to yourself than to Dean. In the events of the day, you had forgotten about Dean’s current battle with Angels and Demons. John Winchester’s long-ago words not rattled around in your memory, and you felt that sinking feeling in your gut.

_There shouldn’t be any more Winchesters in this world, (Y/N). It will only lead to trouble for them. What we do, its not fit for any child to grow up in. I hate that my boys have had the kind of life they had, but that was my fault. Don’t make your child suffer like mine did. End it. Before something comes along and ends them._

“(Y/N)?” Dean called your name, bringing your attention back around. “Now who’s lost down memory lane?”

“I, uh, I’m fine. I think this is something we talk about tomorrow after a goodnight’s sleep. Speaking of, I should probably go in there, talk to Ellen first. Could you just stay here with Ollie?”

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed, though his expression told a different story.

“Just give me ten minutes, okay? I just need to sort of brace Ellen about you, and Jim… ten minutes?”

“Ten minutes,” he repeated, and leaned across the seat to kiss you.

His touch was reassuring, and his kiss made you feel invincible. No matter what was to come, you could face it confidently with him at your side. With one last peek at a sleeping Ollie, you stepped out of the Impala and made your way into Harvelle’s.

[Originally posted by frozen-delight](https://tmblr.co/ZSx6ko2UK-ujQ)

The number of carts in the lot certainly didn’t prepare you for how many people were actually inside. You could hear the jukebox pumping out some Skynard, as a group of people from the rear celebrated something with clinking of bottles and a burst of cheers before you even stepped foot in the place.

Once inside, you felt like you were home again. The familiar smells of peanuts, old pine and beer filled your nostrils as you surveyed the room, trying to find Ellen in the midst of all the patrons. A flash of blonde hair bobbed and weaved through the table in the back, and you smiled upon realizing it was Jo, just as you saw Ellen’s head pop up from behind the bar.

Casually walking up to the bar, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get a whiskey in these parts?” you called out over the noise.

Ellen and Jo both looked up at the same time, ready to pounce on whomever was mouthing off. The moment Ellen realized that person was you, a huge grin broke out on her face. She took off her apron as she came out from behind the bar and tossed it aside before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“My girl is back!” she laughed and swayed you back and forth. “Damn, girl! I was startin’ to think I’d never see you again!” She pushed you back to arm’s length but left her hands on your shoulders. Taking in a long look of you, she drew in a deep breath and just shook her head. “Well, you look like shit. That ex giving you crap, again?”

“Oh, Ellen, I’m so grateful that some things never change,” you laughed and hugged her again.

“Well, hol-ly shit, look at what the cat drug in,” Jo chimed in from behind her mom, wiping her hands on her own apron. “We thought you fell off into domestic bliss and forgot about us.”

“Not for lack of trying,” you teased and gave Ellen a wink before moving on to hug Jo.

“So, what brings ya in?” Ellen asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed you suspiciously. “And where is my ‘lil monster?”

“Well… about that, can we go somewhere quiet to talk for a minute? I can answer both questions at once, just maybe someplace where the walls don’t have ears, ya know?” you motioned towards the full bar of hunters, as the Harvelle women nodded, catching your meaning.

“Sure, honey, let’s go back to Ash’s room. He’s off in Vegas for a week, so its clear. Though, I can’t promise its clean.”

You smiled at the thought of Ash and motioned for her to lead the way.

* * *

Knowing you only had about ten minutes, the second Ellen closed Ash’s door, you began explaining.

“So, you know how I always told you that Ollie’s real dad was a hunter, and that he was long gone?”

They glanced at each other hesitantly and nodded.

“Well,” you continued, “he sorta came back into my life last year. It was unexpected, and very brief, but long enough for me to tell him about her.”

“Wow,” Ellen breathed and sat down in the recliner near Ash’s bed. Jo didn’t react, she just remained quiet and leaned against the wall next to the chair.

“Yeah, well, the other night, he called and wanted to meet up to talk about seeing her. We did, and he finally got to meet her. Jim, didn’t take it very well.”

“I swear, if that asshole did or said anything—”

“Well, he did, but to me, not Ollie. He scared her though, and that’s why we’re here. She’s out in the car with her real dad now, sleeping in the back seat. I wanted to come in and talk to you first. There’s a lot more, but that’s the gist of it.”

“Alright,” Ellen started as she stood up from the chair, “well you know you can stay here, long as you want to. One of us can stay and close the bar, the other can take you and Ollie back to the house to get settled in. Now, what about this baby daddy of yours? He someone I gotta worry about?”

“No,” you said and felt a bout of guilt tugging at you for keeping the Winchester connection secret for so many years. “Shouldn’t be any problems. You knew his father; you know him, too.”

Ellen wrinkled her nose in thought, and started to shake her head slowly, as if trying to dislodge some clue that could tell her who it was. “Who?” she finally asked.

A knock at Ash’s door interrupted your answer and it pushed open before anyone could respond. An older guy’s face peaked in looking for Ellen.

“Hey, El, got some punk and with a little kid out here asking for you,” he complained, clearly put off that his good time was interrupted.

“Alright Clark, I’ll be right there,” she said and walked out of the room.

Jo followed, but you hung back for a moment, knowing who they would both find standing there. Finally, you left the back room and made your way to the front of the bar, where you found Ellen down on one knee and giving Ollie a big hug, and Jo, her hands at her side, her jaw slacked open and her gaze flickering between Dean and Olivia.

[Originally posted by supernaturalrandomness](https://tmblr.co/Z8pawk2MTD2-d)

There was an awkward silence that fell over the bar as you, Dean and Jo waited for Ellen to come back out of Ash’s room. After greeting Ollie, Ellen had closed down the bar early, promising everyone a free round the next time they stopped by. Once it was clear, she took Olivia to Ash’s room, and put on a movie for her to watch while falling back asleep.

When Ellen rejoined you, she looked suspiciously between you and Dean while placing out four glass tumblers and an unopened bottle of bourbon on the bartop.

“So, one of you wanna fill in the details I’m missing?” Ellen said while opening the bottle.

“We met a long time ago,” you started, glancing over at Dean and remembering the reason you had met. “My apartment building was haunted. John showed up at my door one day posed as an exterminator, said he was supposed to fumigate but I had to leave. So, I did. When I got outside, I saw some cocky-ass guy leaning against this cool old car, and he smiled at me as I walked by.”

“And you fell for it,” Ellen admonished with a playful roll of her eyes, pushing the tumblers of bourbon towards everyone.

“Hook, line and sinker,” you said and raised your glass.

“Just, stop. You loved it, don’t lie,” Dean replied and downed his own shot, letting his eyes linger on you.

“Alright, easy boy,” Ellen said, smacking his arm.

“Anyway, we started dating. Went on that way for a while, until, it ended.”

“And why did it end?”

“Why do you think?” Dean asked her with a tick of his head.

“John?”

“John Winchester,” he nodded and raised a second shot of bourbon before throwing it back.

Ellen nodded in understanding and shook her head. “That man, he just had a need to control everything. I’m so damn sorry, honey,” she said and squeezed your hand. “I wished you would’ve told me when you first came here.”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t even think about John, because that meant thinking about Dean, and what I did to him.”

“What did you do?” Jo asked, finally adding her voice to the discussion. You worried about what you heard in it though. That question wasn’t just asking, it was accusing.

“I broke it off, harshly,” you admitted and gave Dean a sorrowful smile. “John scared me into believing I could die, and that if I had the baby, the baby would surely die. So, I took the envelope, that included your number, _didn’t_ terminate as he instructed, and came here instead.”

Jo snorted in frustration and pushed her shot away. “I can’t believe all this time…”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” Ellen said, sweeping her eyes across Dean’s features. “The more I look at him now, the more I see it. And you,” she said, punching Dean hard in the arm, “how _DARE_ you not call me when you had your little resurrection. I had to hear about that from Sam!”

Dean rubbed at his arm where she hit him and scowled. “I know, I suck, alright? I’ve had a lot going on since I got back.”

“Too much to tell your damn family you’re alive?” she challenged.

“Fine, I’m sorry. I’m here now, and,” he paused, a look of love and pride filling his smile, “with my daughter. Can’t we just be happy about that?”

Ellen softened. “You’re right. This is one hell of a development, one that makes me real damn happy.” She refilled all the glasses and pushed Jo’s back towards her, before raising it to toast. “Here’s to reuniting families and enjoying the good things while we got’em.”

You watched Jo reluctantly raise her shot and drink it, but her mind was far away. You caught her glare more than a couple times and wondered why she was radiating such a chill towards you. Too tired and overwrought from the day, you pushed the thought aside for the time being.

“So, y’all gonna stay for a bit?” Ellen asked. “You can stay in Ash’s room for tonight. I don’t want to wake the ‘lil monster again. In the morning though, come back to the house, get cleaned up and you can settle in for as long as you need. I’ll make up your old room for Ollie.”

“Thanks, Ellen,” you said.

Dean cleared his throat and sat up straighter on his stool. “Sam’s meeting us here tomorrow. Bobby, too.”

“Impromptu family reunion?” Ellen joked, then saw the seriousness of Dean’s expression. “What now?”

“Oh, not much. You know, just your ordinary run of demon possessions,” he answered sarcastically. “There’s a lot to fill you guys in on, but honestly, it can wait till tomorrow. Would rather have everyone at one hundred percent, not five shots deep. Between what happened today and what’s been happening with me and Sam, I think we’re in an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ situation.”

Ellen crossed her arms over her chest and threw her head back with a throaty chuckle. “Well, look at you being responsible. Fatherhood looks good on you, Dean.”

Dean considered what she said and nodded. “You know, I think I could get used to it.”

* * *

As the minutes rolled by, Dean, Jo and Ellen chatted a bit, but you just needed to gather your thoughts for a minute. After finishing the last of your bourbon, you wandered over towards the jukebox and plopped in two quarters. Lost in the shuffle of songs flipping by, you didn’t hear Dean approaching until he was right at your side.

“Find anything good?” he asked, leaning one hand on the top of it, and the other on the small of your back.

“Just browsing,” you said, inhaling the hint of his aftershave mixed with the bourbon on his lips. “Anything you want to hear?”

Dean cleared his throat and leaned in closer to see the songs listed, while the hand that had been lingering on your back, slowly lowered itself to your ass. “Let’s see.”

As his eyes scanned the choices, he found one he was happy with and plugged in the number for it. A second later, he punched in a second code, but shielded his hands so you couldn’t see his choices. Once the music began to play through the speakers, he took your hand and pulled you away from the jukebox.

“Drive” by The Cars started playing, the memory of the song, and the bourbon were making you sentimental. You leaned into Dean and put your arms up around his neck, resting your cheek against his chest. He didn’t exactly move you to dance, but he held you against him and absently swayed slowly, closing his eyes and resting a chin to the top of your head. He held you that way for the length of the song, neither of you talking, just moving slowly to the music and holding each other.

When it was over, he moved back slightly as the second song kicked in, some Allman Brothers tune you couldn’t recall the name of. But right then, your focus was on Dean.

“Long day, huh?”

“Certainly, didn’t expect to wake up at your house, just to end the day at Ellen’s bar,” he said. “But yet, here we are.”

“I think they took the news well, don’t you?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at where Ellen and Jo were. They were sitting close and talking and must have felt your gaze on them. Ellen gave you a sweet smile and raised her tumbler in your direction. Jo just glared at you. “Well, at least Ellen did. Jo, maybe not so much.”

“She’ll come around. Jo and I, we got a history,” Dean said, then realized how it must have sounded. “Not like, _our_ history, nothing like that. We worked a couple jobs together, and when Ellen found out, she was pissed. Then later on when Sam was possessed and went after Jo, I ditched her to go after him and never called her like I said I would.”

“Men. You never call when you say you’re gonna,” you tutted, and he just gave you his ‘ _oh, really?’_ look.

“I just mean if, she doesn’t seem onboard, that’s why.”

“Maybe,” you said, and fighting off the urge to look their way again. “I hope that’s all it is.”

“Hey guys,” Ellen called out, “we’re gonna head out. I’ll lock up behind us, help yourselves to whatever and come on by the house tomorrow mornin’. Tell the ‘lil monster I’ll have chocolate chip pancakes waiting.”

You made your way back to them and hugged Ellen. “Thank you, El. She’ll be very excited.”

“Get some sleep, you two. Seems like tomorrow could be a good, long day.”

Dean waved goodnight and you watched them both leave the bar, double checking the locks behind them. You shut down most of the lights, leaving only the soft backlighting of the bar, and the neon tubes of the jukebox to illuminate the room. When you went to rejoin Dean, he was leaning against the pool table, stripped down to the black t-shirt and jeans he had on from that morning. He looked tired, but still happy; his eyes dreamy and watching you approach him from across the room.

“Hey,” you said as you got closer, but instead of going towards him, you walked around to the otherside of the pool table. “Wanna play?”

Dean turned, his gaze following you around the table. You rolled the eight ball so it rebounded off one of the bumpers and down towards where he stood. He picked up the ball and tossed it up, catching it with ease.

“What’s the bet?” he asked, watching you carefully.

You shrugged. “Your call.”

“Well, considering that this is only the second night we’re together after years, really, and I’ve had about five shots of bourbon, all I can think of is really inappropriate things to suggest. And, considering our kid is asleep in Ash’s room maybe we should hold off, and actually get some sleep. Ellen was right, tomorrow could be a long day.”

“Wooow,” you cooed and rolled another ball down the felt. “Ellen _was_ right, you are being all responsible and whatnot. What happened to my reckless, rule breaking, bad boy?”

Dean blushed slightly and laughed, casting his eyes to the ground. “I guess he became a father and decided to get his shit together.”

“It does look good on you, you know. Makes me really wish I could go back in time. Tell your father to fuck off and then we could’ve run away and raised her together.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. You’ll drive yourself crazy. We can’t change it, right? Ollie knows everything now, and so do I. As for you and me, well…” he trailed off and shrugged.

Your heart started to pound. “Well, what?”

“I meant what I said last night, and today. I’m here, I’m not leaving you, and I certainly am not going to let you push me away again. Its probably selfish as hell, but no matter what comes, we got each other. I will keep you and Olivia safe, I promise.”

“I know you will, Dean, and so does Ollie. She told me today that she feels safe with you. The way she took to you, I’ve never seen her like that with anyone.”

Dean swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. The expression on his face seemed pained, but when you closed the gap between you, you saw a little smile and wetness around his eyes.

“Aw, baby, I didn’t mean to make you sad—”

“You didn’t,” he said, caressing the side of your face. “Just the opposite. You, and Ollie… probably the best things that ever happened to me. Knowing you both trust me to keep you safe, and that you’re here…” he scowled to fight back the tears and finally just allowed a few to fall, “well, makes me realize that every second I spent in Hell was worth it, if it meant I got to come home to you guys.”

Dean kissed you. It was the first time he’d done so in a while that day, and you returned it greedily. So many years to make up for, so many nights you had missed sleeping by his side; you silently vowed then to never let another night pass where you didn’t kiss him and tell him you loved him.

“Come on, let’s get go check on Ollie and get some sleep,” he said, regrettably prying himself away from you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you towards your accommodations for the night.

As you laid down with him that night, Ollie softly snoring between you, you shared a silent moment with them both that meant more than another other up until that point. Dean brushed the hair back from his daughter’s forehead and left a slight kiss on her hairline.

“I love you, Ollie,” he rasped, then looked back at you with more love and admiration that you though you’d ever see in him and mouthed the words, _‘thank you.’_


	5. Chapter 5

You bolted upright and panicked for a moment, unsure of where you were. It was familiar, but not from your recent memory. Focusing on some things around the room, it took a minute or two, and the recognition of the ZZ Top poster on the wall, but you realized that you were in Ash’s room at the Roadhouse.

Muffled voices from beyond the closed door carried in. When you went to investigate out in the bar, you saw Dean and Ollie playing pool. Not wanting to disturb them, you tip-toed out of Ash’s room and watched from the shadows.

“Alright,” Dean said moving the crate over to the long side of the table. “What do you do first?”

Ollie climbed up on the plastic milk crate and took the cue stick from his hand. It was one of the shorter ones, but still too big for her small size. She still managed to get her grip on it properly and bend over the table.

“First, you line up your shot,” she said, closing one eye and positioning her hand slightly off proper stance. Dean leaned over and moved her hands where they needed to be but then backed off to watch her.

“Right. Then what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, watching her carefully.

“Then, look for your next shot,” Ollie replied confidently.

“Atta girl!” he said and moved around to the other side of the table. “Which are you looking at?”

Ollie stood back up and examined the layout of the billiard balls in front of her. You couldn’t see the whole table, but you watched her face as she tried to decide what to do. The way her young features were set in determination as she chewed her bottom lip, only highlighted the Winchester genes even more.

Finally, she pointed at an obscured part of the table. “There.”

“Yes!” Dean exclaimed and walked back around to her. “Now, when you draw back to hit the cue ball, if you hit it here,” he pointed to the center bottom part of the ball, “that will make the ball recoil after hitting this one and roll back to line up the other shot. Got it?”

“Got it!” Ollie nodded and bent back over the table. Dean helped adjust her arm slightly, but he stepped back when she began to find her stroke and hit the ball. The cue did exactly what she hoped it would, bouncing the seven ball into the pocket, and rolling it back to line up her next shot.

When it rolled to a stop, Ollie jumped off the crate, then up and downing, cheering, and Dean shot both arms up in the air in a celebration of victory. “That’s my girl!!”

Ollie’s face was just full of elation, her smile going ear to ear. She jumped up at Dean, slapping him a vicious high five, to which he pretended it hurt. Dean shook off his hand and mumbled something to Ollie you couldn’t hear. You watched as your daughter flung herself at Dean and wrapped her arms around his waist to embrace him tightly. He hugged her back, letting her be the one to pull away first. She bounded back towards the table, hopped back on the crate and repeated the process.

This time, Dean took a step back and watched her. Even from the distance, you noticed the emotion around his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but the lines in his face were betraying the build-up of feeling that was growing inside him. He sucked them back down, his pouty bottom lip clenching at the process, all while watching his daughter play pool like a natural.

Dean felt your gaze on him and finally noticed you standing in the shadows. He didn’t call out your name or wave you over, but the corner of his mouth tugged into a thoughtful smile before he turned back to Ollie to help her with her grip.

No matter what was about to go down with demons and angels, at that moment watching your daughter play pool with her father made it feel like all was right and perfect in your world.

Ollie must have felt you lurking. After she took her shot, she turned and saw you watching from the fringe.

“Mom! Dean is teaching how to play pool!”

“I see that,” you said and flashed her an encouraging smile as you came further into the room. “I just hope he’s not teaching you how to _hustle_ pool.”

“C’moonn,” Dean whined, feigning offense. “I wouldn’t do that… not until she’s older. The girl needs some kind of skills to fall back on.”

Closing your eyes, you shook your head and tried to stifle a laugh. When you opened them again, Dean was right beside you, but watching Ollie continue to line up shots.

“She’s pretty good, you know. We’ve only been at it for an hour, and she damn near ran five shots in a row before.”

“Smart, sassy, and a hell of a shot… just like her daddy,” you wiggled your brow at him, earning you one of his infamous smirks; the one that made you fall for him in the first place.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. The sass, she gets that from you,” he said seriously, then noticed your expression and tried to backpedal. “I just mean–”

“Yeah, yeah… just quit while you’re ahead, hm?”

Dean’s cell vibrated with Smoke on the Water before he could relent. He dove into his pocket, pulling it out quickly and sighing with relief when he saw Sam’s name.

“Hey! Dude, where are you?” he asked in a terse greeting. Dean held up his finger, asking for a minute then went walked over to the bar so he could talk to his brother with some privacy.

You nodded and watched him walk away, taking a moment to appreciate the view. There was a brief moment you forgot about everything that was hanging over him, and you by extension, and you let yourself dive into a fantasy where you, Dean and Ollie could be a happy family. Barbecues, holidays, library dates, school plays, Uncle Sam and Aunt Ellen coming to visit… maybe even more kids. Dean could still hunt–you’d never try and make him stop, it would be a fruitless effort anyway– but he could, and he would always find his way back to you…

“Mommy?” Ollie asked, pulling on your sleeve to get your attention.

“Hmm?” you responded, and looked down at her with a hazy expression she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“You okay? You look funny.”

“I’m fine, Ol. Just thinking…”

“About what?”

Nothing wanting to place these hopes and dreams on her until you knew how things would shake out, you just smiled a big and said “Pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes! Auntie El said to come to the house today and she’ll whip you up a batch. Plus, she’s fixing up our old room for us. You mind crashing with her for a while?”

“Will you stay there with me?” she asked, a momentary flash of panic streaked across her young face. “Will Dean?”

Crouching to be eye level with her, you brushed a strand of hair from her face and forced a calming, happy smile.

“Me, absolutely. Dean… I don’t know, Ollie. He’s got some work he needs to tend too,” you paused and glanced over your shoulder to where Dean was pacing and talking low, but animatedly on the phone, then turned your attention back to Olivia. “But, between you and me, I sure hope he does.” You winked at her and she giggled softly.

“Mom?”

“Hm?”

“I hope so, too.”

“What do you say, you go gather your things from Ash’s room, and maybe we get ourselves over to Ellen’s? I’m sure you’re hungry considering you didn’t eat last night.”

“I am hungry. I’ll go grab my stuff!” she squealed and bounced off in the direction of Ash’s room, then suddenly stopped and turned back to face you. “Do you think Auntie El has bacon?”

“She better!” Dean exclaimed as he came up behind you, “It’s one of the most important food groups.”

Ollie giggled and shook her head. “No it’s not,” she laughed and rolled her eyes, but then her face went serious, and she looked more like Dean at that moment, than she ever had before. “But it should be.”

You and Dean both held it together until she had disappeared into Ash’s room, then began to laugh.

“Is she always like that?” he asked as his gaze still lingered in the direction she went off in.

“Yes. Yes, she is. I told you, Dean, she is your mini-me,” you smiled and ribbed him with your elbow. “So, what did Sam have to say?”

Dean’s expression faltered, and gone was the dreaming, poetic look of a father who loved his child, but that of a man scared for her future. His gaze fluttered to the floor, and he stopped and started speaking more than a couple of times before he sighed in resignation.

“I don’t know,” he breathed and rubbed a hand over his face. “He should be here soon, but, I dunno. Something’s up with him.”

“I remember you said something about that the other day. What is it? What’s he doing?”

Dean passed you a glance that said you’d never believe him if he told you.

“Try me, Dean. C’mon… the Sam I saw earlier this year–”

“That was the Sam before I went to Hell. He changed. He’s… “

“What?”

“Look. Y/N, there’s _a lot_ I haven’t told you about what’s going on. I know I gave you the Cliffs Notes version, but the reality of the situation is seriously way more fu–”

“I’m ready!” Ollie called out as she rejoined you and Dean near the pool table. “You think Aunt Ellen will let me come back later and play pool?”

“Maybe! But first, let’s get there and get you fed, ok?” you said and reached out for Olivia’s hand.

She slipped her small fingers into yours and gave you a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go eat!” she exclaimed and reached her other hand up to Dean.

“Girl after my own heart,” he mused and gave Ollie a wink.

“Well… I’ll be…” Bobby said with a snort as his eyes flickered between Dean, standing beside him, and Olivia, who sat in the kitchen eating pancakes. The old hunter took the trucker cap off his head and itched the side of his scalp, before replacing it, then turning to Dean with a look of pure disbelief. “I just… I never had a damn clue. How the _Hell_ did your brother keep this quiet?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, Bobby. But he did. Dad, too.”

“And the girl? She never told you she was pregnant?”

“No,” Dean replied lowly and cleared his throat, glancing up at Y/N who was sat next to Olivia in the kitchen. “She called to tell me, dad found out instead and did what he did best…” he trailed off and shrugged with his expression.

“Meddled. That’s what he did,” Bobby grumbled. “Dammit, John…” Bobby growled a sigh and patted his adopted son’s shoulder. “I’m real damn sorry he did that, Dean. He had no right.”

“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s done. Not like I cam reem the guy out now, can I?”

“Still… all that you missed out on,” Bobby shook his head.

“She’s here now, that’s what I gotta be grateful for. It’s time to step up and protect my kid and right now, I don’t know if I can do that alone.”

Dean’s gaze caught Bobby’s, and his heart broke when he saw the fear reflecting in Dean’s eyes.

“I’m here, son. For whatever you, and her, may need.” Bobby patted his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, then turned his attention to Y/N. “Now, what about the girl’s mama. What’s the story there?” Bobby eyed him carefully, trying to read Dean’s expression where the mother of the girl was concerned.

“That? That’s a story for another day, Bobby. Just know that keeping her safe is just as important as keeping Ollie safe. No way I’m gonna lose her again.”

“Alright. Just checkin’,” Bobby said, focusing his narrowed gaze on the strange woman in the kitchen. “All this time, she’s known the life… known Ellen and Jo. Why didn’t she tell anyone that the kid was yours?”

“Dad scared the shit out of her. He made her believe that if any more Winchesters were born into the world, they would just be ripe for the supernatural pickin’s I guess,” Dean shrugged. “He wanted her to end it. Gave her money to terminate the pregnancy. Instead, she took off, found Ellen, and did what she thought she had to do.”

“You ain’t mad about that?” Bobby snorted. “Can’t say I’d be too quick to forgive if I were you. Not like she magically lost your number. She still coulda–”

“Bobby, come on. Just let it go, alright? Y/N and I, we’re good. I want to put all that in the past and just focus on now. We certainly got enough on our plates with Lilith and the seals, don’t we?”

The old man nodded and ran a hand over his beard, letting it fall from his face with a sigh. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“Alright then. Let’s focus on that, and keeping them safe,” Dean paused and looked back to the kitchen, where half his heart sat, laughing and eating pancakes. “Because losing them, even after just having them in my life for a few days… I don’t think I could come back from that, Bobby.”

“Then that’s what we do.” Bobby’s hand clamped down tightly on Dean’s shoulder, again, in an effort to offer him some reassurance. Dean nodded and bit down on the inside of his lip to try and keep his emotions in check.

“First things first,” Dean said, turning away from the kitchen and back towards Bobby. “Where the _HELL_ is Sam?”

“Beats me. Said he’d be here an hour ago. Do you think he went to the Roadhouse instead?” Bobby asked though he could sense Dean felt it was something more sinister. “I know that look, boy. Spill it.”

Dean shook his head slowly. “I don’t know… he’s been different. He’s lying to me, sneaking off more. I’m worried about him.”

“What else is new?” Bobby asked sarcastically.

Dean rolled his eyes. “This is different, Bobby. It just is.”

“I get that, Dean. But Sam is a grown man. He’s allowed to go off without your permission.”

“Yeah, but what’s he doing when he’s gone? Hmm? God only knows–”

Before he could continue, Olivia came into the room, a wide smile that was covered in traces of chocolate and, plate of pancakes in her hand.

“I brought you some,” she said, beaming up at Dean and holding out the plate. “I even made sure mom put bacon on there.”

Dean took the plate happily. “I am starving, how did you know?”

“Cause, you’re a boy. Boys are always hungry,” she said and shrugged as if it were the most commonly known fact in the world. She looked up wearily at Bobby, having only just met him and unsure of what to make of the gruff old hunter.

“Do you want some, too?” she asked him shyly.

“I sure do appreciate the offer, but I’m good honey,” Bobby replied with his friendliest grin and winked.

Ollie flashed a shy smile and ran back to the kitchen, promptly jumped back into her chair and held up her plate up to Ellen, asking more pancakes. Dean shoved a fork of the food in his mouth and groaned as he chewed and swallowed.

“Oh man, so good,” he mused while savoring the taste of the pancakes before snapping off a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“Least you ain’t lost your appetite,” Bobby laughed and shook his head. “Come on.” He motioned his head for Dean to follow him back into Ellen’s kitchen.

“Anyone heard from Sam yet?” Ellen asked when they joined the group in the kitchen. “We really need to get talking about events that are unfoldin’,” she said then glanced down at Ollie. “Figure out some things.”

Y/N nodded. “Soon as Sam gets here, I’ll take Ollie–”

The sound of a car door from outside grabbed everyone’s attention. Dean placed the plate of pancakes back to the table and glanced outside Ellen’s kitchen window to see Sam getting out of the ride he had to hijack to get there. Dean’s brow furrowed when he saw Sam was limping towards the house. From the distance of the window, it looked like Sam had blood on the side of his face.

Dean darted out the back door, with Bobby following quickly behind. Ellen looked out of the window and quickly turned to Jo. “Joanna Beth, take Olivia upstairs, now.”

“But mom–” she began to protest.

“Now! Sam may need Y/N’s help,” she barked.

Jo’s gaze flickered anxiously between her mother and Y/N. The moment the back door opened and she saw both Dean and Bobby helping him into the house, she promptly grabbed Olivia’s hand.

“Come on kiddo, let’s go get the pancake gunk off ya.”

Olivia began to protest but the moment she saw Sam’s bloody head, she got up and nearly ran from the room. Once she was clear, Y/N sprung into action as Dean and Bobby dumped Sam into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Ellen, get your kit. I didn’t bring mine and he needs some stitches.”

The kitchen was virtually silent while you attended to Sam’s wounds. All he had been able to get out so far, was that he went to the Roadhouse and found it in ruins. After that, he said everything went dark.

Ellen had fallen into one of the kitchen chairs when she heard the news about her bar; a blank expression clouded her face as her knuckles grasped the edge of the table so hard they turned white. Bobby and Dean both tried grilling Sam for details, but he wasn’t of much help.

“Man, I dunno what happened. I pulled up and it was in ruins,” Sam paused to wince as you put the last stitch in place above his brow. “It looks like it had been hit by a meteor… smashed to bits and still smoldering,” Sam rasped, the pain of the attack still coming in waves. “I’m so sorry Ellen.”

Ellen continued to sit quietly dumbfounded at the table as Sam recounted his story of finding the Roadhouse destroyed.

“When I came too, they had me pinned down, and were spouting off some garbage about the angels, and how Lilith would succeed in freeing Lucifer from his cage.”

Listening carefully, but not saying anything, you felt like you may be sick. What they were talking about went beyond anything you understood about the supernatural world.

You finished up Sam’s stitches and put the suture kit back in the lockbox where Ellen kept it. When you sat back in the chair beside her, that’s when it hit you how closely you, Dean and Ollie must have come to missing the attack. Bobby stood behind Ellen, his hands on her shoulders trying to help keep her upright.

“We can rebuild it, El. We’ll figure out a way,” Bobby said lowly and passed glances to Sam and Dean, who nodded sympathetically.

“Hell yeah–” “You know it–” they replied simultaneously.

“I’m gonna find those black-eyed bitches,” Ellen growled, toying with the glass of whiskey now in front of her. “I’m gonna send each one of ‘em straight back to the pit.”

“We will, Ellen. I promise you that,” Dean said and looked to Sam. “Not that I’m complaining, but why let you live? Did they just beat the crap out of you for kicks?”

Sam shrugged half-heartedly. “Not sure,” he replied, but conveyed a look to Dean that meant, _‘we’ll talk later’._ Dean continued the silent conversation with a furrowed brow, but Sam every so slightly shook his head. _‘Not now,’_ it said.

“Alright, so what now?” you asked, ignoring what was going on between the brothers; not like they would answer you if you asked.

“This has to be what we were talking about last night,” Dean said, turning his attention to you. “If Jim is possessed, and he knows we came here–”

“Wait, Jim? _YOUR_ Jim?!” Ellen fummed, the fire in her expression just as deadly as the one that brought down her bar.

You nodded apologetically. “It’s why we’re here,” you replied softly, giving Dean a pensive glance. He nodded, gently prodding you to continue. “Jim didn’t take well to seeing Dean with Ollie. It turned into a fight when we dropped Ollie off at his place the other night. I thought he was just being a jerk–”

“He pinned her against the front door, hard,” Dean added through gritted teeth.

“If not for Ollie being there…” you shrugged. “Seeing her stopped him, so we left. But later, she said that she thought his eyes went black and that the living room smelled like rotten eggs.”

“Sulfur,” Bobby whispered, coming to understand the point they were getting at. “You think he got possessed? But when? Where?”

You nodded. “Look, he wasn’t a great guy for the last year of our marriage, and once or twice things got…. rough, between us.” Dean noticeably tensed at the mention of it. “But I don’t know; he was different. More intense than usual.”

Bobby walked around to the opposite side of the table and poured himself a shot of whiskey. Once the burn wore off, he cleared his throat. “So, let me get this straight… did your ex–”

“Jim.”

“Right, Jim, did he know about the life? Does he know the truth about what’s out there?”

“No, he had no idea. I told him Ellen was my aunt, Jo was my cousin. He never really cared to know my family, never asked about them. In fact, he always acted like I was an orphan. Never wanted to know about my folks, siblings… any of it.”

“That didn’t raise a red flag?” Bobby asked curiously, folding his arms over his chest.

“Bobby, come on,” Dean sighed. “Give her a break.”

“No, he’s right, Dean. I should have wondered why,” you looked back to Bobby and got where he was going. “You think he had been possessed from the beginning?”

Bobby hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then shrugged. “It’s possible. If the demon was there the whole time, it wouldn’t make itself known unless it wanted too. Maybe once Dean showed back up…”

“Dammit,” Dean muttered under his breath, his eyes fluttering closed as his gut swelled with vile.

You reached over and gently touched his forearm. “Hey, this isn’t on you.”

“The Hell it ain’t!” Dean barked, letting the anger he had towards himself take over.

“Heeyyy, guys… little ears back in the room,” Jo said as cheerfully as she could and walked into the kitchen holding Olivia’s hand. She had been freshly showered and dressed. Jo even took the time to fix her hair in french braid pigtails making her look at least three years younger than she really was.

“Hey baby,” you said and opened out your arms. “Come here, there’s someone you gotta meet.”

Olivia slowly entered the kitchen, looking between you and Dean, then very carefully in Sam’s direction. She looked at him curiously, her fierce green eyes scrutinizing the now bandaged wound on his head, along with the cut on his cheek.

“Is he ok?” she asked you in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, he’s alright. Just a little accident on the way over. But, this guy right here, this is your Uncle Sam. He’s Dean’s brother.”

Olivia immediately looked at Dean, who nodded and smiled, confirming what you just told her.

“Remember I told you about my little brother?” Dean asked her, “Well this is him.”

“He’s not little at all,” she said, still eyeing Sam carefully. “Is he the one that makes you eat all the healthy things?”

Dean laughed. “He sure is. So, if he ever tries to get you to eat kale… just say no, kid.”

Ollie giggled and left your side to move closer to Dean, and then hesitantly closer to Sam.

Sam smiled at his niece with an expression of disbelief, all previous talk of demons momentarily forgotten. “Hi there,” he said and held out his hand to her. She placed her little fingers in his and shook his hand.

“Hi.”

“You probably don’t remember me, I saw you once when you were super small.”

Ollie turned to you, and you nodded. “You were only two, Ol.”

“Oh, then I definitely don’t remember,” she said.

“Well then I guess we have to make some new memories, huh?” Sam said, his grin stretching from ear to ear, despite the pain it caused the wounds on his face.

“Sure. Are you staying here at Aunt El’s too? Are we all going back to the bar?” Ollie looked around at all the adults faces in the room, and with the exception of Jo’s, realized everyone looked very sad. “Why’s everyone so mopey?”

“Aw honey, c’mere,” Ellen said and patted her lap. Ollie bounced over to her and sat on Ellen’s leg. “Apparently there was an accident right after you left there today. The bar is gone.”

Ollie’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story, Olivia. I promise to tell you more about it later.”

“But, I wanna know now,” she whined. “I’m not a baby, you can tell me grown up things!”

“Olivia.” Dean’s tone was stern but not loud. “Mom said later, okay? There’s a lot going on right now, kiddo. It’s not that we don’t think you’re big enough to hear it. It’s just, we want to understand it ourselves before we tell you.”

Dean raised his brow as he gazed at her, hoping she would understand and back off. You knew how stubborn she could be, and watched the two of them have their stare down, seeing who would be the first to crack. 

Olivia’s body relaxed, and she nodded ever-so-slightly. “Okay.”

Dean smiled at her. “But, I did hear that Aunt Ellen has a killer pool table in the basement. I bet you if you asked Jo nicely, she would take you down and let you practice some. You can show her what I taught you this morning. Whatcha say?”

Olivia turned to Jo, who flashed Dean rueful glance, but eventually smiled at Olivia. “Sure, come on, Ollie, show me what you got.”

Once again, Jo held out her hand for Olivia to take, and lead her from the room. When they were out of earshot, you couldn’t help but chuckle, and pat Dean’s knee.

“Nice save, dad,” you teased.

“Dude,” Sam spoke up. “You have a daughter…” he snorted a disbelieving sigh and just shook his head. “I mean, I knew she existed, but just seeing you two in the same room…”

“Then maybe you shoulda spoke up about it sooner, boy,” Bobby said, though he lacked any kind of accusatory tone. “John I believe, but you? Keeping something like this from your brother for so long? That’s not the kind of secret, you keep from family.”

Dean sighed heavily. “Bobby, c’mon. I thought we were letting all that go. We got bigger problems, remember?”

“Hey! Enough, alright. We need to deal with these demons that just burned down my bar. Which, apparently includes your ex-husband, Y/N. So, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us everything you know about Jim.”

“Before you do that,” Sam said, standing from the chair, “I need to talk to Dean for a minute, alone.”

“Whatever you gotta tell me–”

“No,” Sam interrupted. Sam no-so-subtly motioned his head towards the back door.

Dean stood from his chair, his expression wrought with concern. “Alright little brother, lead the way.

Once they were outside, Sam paced back and forth for a moment before he finally faced Dean. Frustrated, Dean raised his brow in question and sighed.

“What the hell, Sam? What’s going on?” he asked, tired from the constant feeling of secrecy that surrounded Sam as of late.

“Those demons that were at Harvelle’s, they didn’t just kick my ass for sport. They did it because they wanted me to deliver a message.”

Dean’s expression fell and he felt his veins run cold. “What message? For who?”

Sam paused for a moment, calming his own anger in order to be ready and deal with the rage that he knew would erupt in his brother the moment he passed along the demon’s warning.

“To you,” he paused and raised his brow, “they said, ‘don’t think she’s untouchable’.”


End file.
